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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187358">Ruin The Friendship</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggpainter/pseuds/ethotlliot'>ethotlliot (eggpainter)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>RTF [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DreamWasTaken - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, dream - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Developing Relationship, Edging, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Light Dom/sub, Rope Bondage, Smut, spitting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:42:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>187,771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggpainter/pseuds/ethotlliot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I miss my friend. </p><p>I haven't gotten to see Clay lately. Probably due to YouTube and Twitch and everything else. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for his success, but it takes all of his time. He's either busy streaming, recording shit, or in another tournament. When he is free, which is rarely, he often wants to do anything other than play Minecraft, which is the main thing we do together.</p><p>I also live nearly two hours away from him now because of college, so it's hard to visit him in person, too. </p><p>So, we came to a compromise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>RTF [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>196</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>you've read this fucker :]</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. impulse (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I posted this before and removed it. It’s back. Don’t be weird/elitist in the comments.</p><p>Also don’t mention the word count, like... I know it’s absurdly long. I was havin’ fun.</p><p>If I take this down again you can read it on Wattpad. (i recommend reading it there in the first place)</p><p>https://www.wattpad.com/story/239739104-ruin-the-friendship-dreamwastaken-x-reader</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I miss my friend. </p><p>I haven't gotten to see Clay lately. Probably due to YouTube and Twitch and everything else. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for his success, but it takes all of his time. He's either busy streaming, recording shit, or in another tournament. When he is free, which is rarely, he often wants to do anything other than play Minecraft, which is the main thing we do together.</p><p>I also live nearly two hours away from him now because of college, so it's hard to visit him in person, too. </p><p>So, we came to a compromise.</p><p>I saw a couple videos on the RLCraft modpack and was quick to download it. I sent it to Clay too, and from there we made plans. Though we only have a couple hours to play together, I'm happy to spend any amount of time with him. </p><p>That's how I got into this situation. Alone in my room, cooped up in my apartment on a Friday afternoon, starting a new world in modded Minecraft instead of hanging out with my roommate and talking to people near me. </p><p>"Dream— DREAM!" I find myself shouting into my mic, running from a dragon of all things. It's only been a few minutes since we started, at most. I shout again, and die instantly. I didn't realize how hard this modpack was going to be, I should've watched a few more videos.</p><p>Clay shows up just in time to die as well. I can't help the laugh I let out as he slams his keyboard. "Why'd you shout for me?! What was I supposed to do?!" </p><p>"Die with me." I say, grinning.</p><p>Clay stutters into his mic and starts punching me the second we respawn. I yelp, running away, but it's no use. He punches me to death. </p><p>I laugh as I die, happy that I've made him angry. Maybe I'm a bit mean, but it's so exciting to rile Clay up, he has the best reactions. </p><p>"If I respawn are you going to kill me again?" I ask, pouting, hovering over the button. </p><p>"Fuck around and find out." He says.</p><p>I click respawn and yelp, immediately getting hit again. I'm running and jumping to get away from Clay's relentless pursuit. We should probably figure out how to actually play the modpack, but this is fun too. </p><p>It's no surprise when he corners and kills me again. I like to think I'm alright at Minecraft, but I'll never be any match for Clay. He's literally professional level. </p><p>I respawn, quickly, silently, and bolt in the opposite direction than the one we were running. We're both linked to the same spawn in a village, I need to find a new place to set spawn so that he can't keep killing me. </p><p>I notice Clay's gone oddly silent as well. </p><p>"What are you—" I start, immediately biting my tongue. He appears on my screen, again, already swinging at me, somehow having acquired a sword.</p><p>"DREAM PLEASE—" I shout out, trying to run. </p><p>"Come to daddy." He says, sing-song.</p><p>I hate the way it makes my stomach flip.</p><p>Though I've known him what feels like forever, I've nursed the same stupid crush on him starting in high school and now into college. It was fading last year, but the pandemic forced everyone online. Thus, I started to spend a lot more time with him, playing games to keep occupied. On top of all of that, he now produces a steady stream of content that I can and do watch.</p><p>Though, I'd rather die than admit that to him.</p><p>I've seen the edits of him on TikTok, the compilations of him shouting, swearing, grunting. It's so embarrassing to me that I watch them, but it's a guilty pleasure I just can't stop. </p><p>Plus. I have the unique privilege of knowing the face that goes with the hands.</p><p>I'm pulled from my thoughts by Clay laughing as he slaughters me again. I laugh back nervously, realizing I was doing a spectacularly poor job of running from him, and hope he doesn't notice.</p><p>"Bad job." Clay says, tsk'ing.</p><p>"C'mon. I was lagging." I say, an excuse.</p><p>"Sure. I totally believe that."</p><p>"I was!" </p><p>"Uh huh." </p><p>"I literally—" </p><p>I stop speaking with another yelp, my character getting hit by Clay again. I made the mistake of respawning before I was ready to run. </p><p>"DREAM! PLEASE!" I shout again, futile. </p><p>"Beg for it to stop." He says again, killing me.</p><p>I nearly choke on my spit. He has to know how he sounds. I whine into the mic, more about how upset I am with my fluttering stomch, than the fact that he's making me into mincemeat.</p><p>"Fine, fine. I'll stop. No need to cry." Clay says after I die this time. He crouch spams next to me as I spawn again.</p><p>He must've misheard my whine as actual distress. Which, I guess, it was. I feel my cheeks heat as I try to focus on playing again. </p><p>"Thanks." I mumble, trying desperately to not be awkward.</p><p>We finally start to play the game normally. It takes a couple Youtube videos and google searches, but soon we're making actual progress. Though, Clay's definitely carrying. </p><p>We spend our few hours finding another village and picking a home from the various modded structures we find and explore. We die countless times more, or, more accurately, I die countless times more.</p><p>After a few hours I feel my stomach rumble. I lift my legs to my seat and try to ignore it, knowing I don't want to stop gaming. I make it another 15 minutes before my stomach growls again, loud enough the mic picks up on it.</p><p>"Woah, woah— what was that?" Clay asks with a breathy laugh. </p><p>I sigh. "Ugh. My stomach. How much longer until you stream?" I ask.</p><p>"Uhhh... an hour and change." He says.</p><p>I puff my cheeks out. "I'm not gonna make it. We'll have to call it here so I can go cook something to eat." </p><p>Clay pouts, audibly. "Just grab some junk food, c'mon." </p><p>I grimace. "I don't really have any. I'm not even sure what we do have that I could make." I say.</p><p>One of the drawbacks to college, being in charge of your own groceries. My roomie Ellie's going to the store tomorrow to pick up our grocery order, very much needed. But right now, we're almost completely out of everything.</p><p>Clay sighs. "Ugh. Fine." I watch as he saves and logs, then I log too. "Take me with you then." He says.</p><p>I smile for that. "I'll call you back on FaceTime." I say, waiting for a grunt of agreement, then hang up the discord call.</p><p>I grab my phone and head to the kitchen, searching the pantry for what to make. I come to the brilliant decision that I'll be making cupcakes, one of the only things I have left. Not really a meal, but it'll do. </p><p>I set my phone up, then press the video call, scurrying around to get to 'cooking'. If you can call box-mix cake... cooking. </p><p>Clay answers the call, looking somewhat ruffled and lazy, and immediately sets his phone on his desk. I get a goofy angle of him, mostly from below. </p><p>"Hey." He says.</p><p>"Hey." I chirp back, starting to measure oil for my cake mix.</p><p>Clay spares me a glance. </p><p>"Is that cake mix?" He asks with a laugh.</p><p>I nod. "Sure is."</p><p>"Okay, MasterChef." He teases.</p><p>"Hey! Food is food." I say back, looking away from my measuring cup to look at the call again. </p><p>I see he's hunched over, looking particularly focused. </p><p>"What're you doing?" I ask.</p><p>Clay hums, and glances at me again. "I'm just editing." He says.</p><p>I let out an exaggerated sigh that he misses, or at least doesn't acknowledge. </p><p>"Allllwayyyys busy." I say, dragging the words out slowly, hoping he'll hear me this time. </p><p>I get my wish. He looks up and starts to protest, but still smiles. "What do you mean?! You're literally cooking!" He half shouts. </p><p>I try to keep a serious face, but end up cracking into another smile. "I'm just being dumb." I say. </p><p>I finally have all the ingredients in a bowl, and start vigorously mixing. It's almost a disaster several times, but I manage to keep a handle on it. We keep chatting about stupid stuff while I line trays for cupcakes, eventually angling up to pour.</p><p>"Don't mess up." Clay says, just as I start to pour. It makes me look up and I immediately miss. </p><p>I swear under my breath and readjust. "You're such an annoying little pissbaby." I say, then start to pour again, with all my focus this time. </p><p>Clay laughs. "Wow. I see how it is." </p><p>I don't respond, singularly focused. </p><p>"Ugh. That looks kinda good. Bring me one." He says.</p><p>I raise my eyes to look at him, but not until after I've finished.</p><p>"Bet." I say, swiping my finger through the batter and licking it off.</p><p>He turns to say something but freezes. He stays silent for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. </p><p>"Clay?" I ask, dropping my hand.</p><p>He quickly blinks and goes back into talking. "Huh?" He asks.</p><p>"Wait—" He starts again. "Don't do that actually— that's such a long drive." He says. </p><p>I smile, putting the cupcakes in the oven, and say nothing.</p><p>"You're not seriously going to—" He starts again. </p><p>I roll my eyes. "What? You don't want me there?" I ask with a fake pout. "You hate me?"</p><p>Clay groans, running a hand down his face. "That's not— I just mean don't come here over a cupcake. I'd always be happy to see you." He says.</p><p>I nod, considering that, hatching a plan.</p><p>It is a two hour drive but... I have nothing else going on this weekend. More importantly: it would be funny to surprise him. Plus... I just want to see him. </p><p>"Okay, okay. I'm not gonna, don't get your panties in a wad." I say, swiping up all the leftover batter with my finger. </p><p>"Good." Clay says, still side-eyeing me. </p><p>We stay chatting until I pull my cupcakes out, then he hangs up to get ready for his stream. I start to pack myself a weekend bag, having already committed to my impulse decision.</p><p>I probably haven't seen him in person since... March, I realize. The last time I saw him was when he came up for spring break... and I don't remember much of spring break. Much of it was spent intoxicated in my apartment, surrounded by other people.</p><p>I throw my bag down and wait for the cupcakes to cool so I can frost. As soon as I do, I eat two right off the bat as my dinner, then pack the rest up. I have a moment of hesitation standing in the kitchen, but shrug it off.</p><p>I might as well do this. </p><p>I try to ignore the way my stomach fills with butterflies when I think about seeing Clay in person again. I end up showering and changing, just so I'm extra cute and fresh. I have some nerves about seeing him but drag in a deep breath.</p><p>We're literally just friends. It's normal. </p><p>I grab my cupcakes and my bag, and head out the door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. surprise (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I have to hide my car as I park down Clay's street. I don't want to risk him seeing me before I show up. The drive was a long two hours, but I can safely see he's still streaming just by checking my Twitch.</p><p>I hop out of my car with my cupcakes and bag and walk up to his front door. I look around, checking the place out. He just moved in a couple months ago. I've seen most of it on FaceTime, but I've never been in person. I'm surprised when the door swings open before I can even try sneaking in with the spare key. I'm even more surprised to see it's his mom who answers. She grins as she sees me. </p><p>"Now, what are you doing here? I'll go get Clay—" She says starting to turn. </p><p>"Wait!" I flap my hand to get her attention. "I want to surprise him." I say, stepping in.</p><p>"Have it your way, then." She says, moving back to give me room.</p><p>"You're visiting him too?" I ask with a laugh.</p><p>She shrugs. "I was actually almost out the door, I came by to bring Clay dinner and ended up caught in a whirlwind of tidying up after I saw his kitchen."</p><p>I nod as a response, a little embarrassed to have been caught showing up like this. "Well. You know where to sit!" She chirps, and disappears back into the kitchen. </p><p>I sit down on a couch in the living room, drawing my knees up to my chest. I pull out my phone and start scrolling social media to pass the time. Clay will probably be down to get food, soon. I wonder if he'll even notice me sitting here. Either way, I'm not going to go up there and interrupt his stream.</p><p>After a few more minutes his mom walks back out, holding a bag of her own. </p><p>"Good night!" She says to me, waving her way out the door. "You kids have fun."</p><p>"G'nite ma'am!" I say in response, watching her go.</p><p>I get back on my phone and stay on social media until I hear the thud of footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn to look, exhaling softly when Clay rounds the corner and enters the living room. </p><p>He's holding his own phone, typing out texts, and doesn't look up to see me. I watch his back as he disappears into the kitchen. </p><p>"Ma, you leave?" I hear him call out from the other room, responded to with only silence. It's so hard to not laugh and reveal myself. </p><p>Clay comes back out of his kitchen with a pop tart hanging out of his mouth, pulling his shirt off. I can't help that I squawk. He immediately pulls his shirt back on as his head snaps toward me. </p><p>There's a moment of charged silence where he just stares at me in surprise. His pop tart breaks, and falls out of his mouth to the floor. It pulls him out of his initial shock and he cracks into a big smile.</p><p>"What the fuck are you doing here?!" He asks, all excitement. He bends over to lift his ruined pop tart and toss it before he strides toward me.</p><p>I force myself to look confused and lift my shitty cupcakes. "I said bet." I say. </p><p>Clay laughs, leaning over the back of his couch to cuff the back of my head. "You're so stupid." He says, reaching for a cupcake. He stays smiling as he starts eating it, and I feel myself start to get flustered. </p><p>"Any good?" I ask.</p><p>"No. They're terrible." He says, then shoves the rest of it in his mouth. I take it seriously for just a second, then see the quirk in the corner of his mouth. </p><p>I decide I'll play back. "That's not really surprising, I dropped all of them on the floor." I say, pursing my lips. </p><p>Clay grins, looking a bit maniacal with a mouth full of cupcake. "Ev'n better!" He says, grabbing another. </p><p>"You're so grody." I say with a laugh, pushing the whole box at him. </p><p>He swallows roughly, taking the box, brows lifting like he just remembered something. "Shit. I gotta get back to my stream. You coming up?" He says, already stepping away. </p><p>"You want me to?" I ask. I'd figured he wouldn't invite me up while he's streaming. I was prepared to just stay downstairs until he finishes.</p><p>"Sure. You can chill in my bed and watch. Just... stay quiet." He says. </p><p>I feel heat creeping onto my cheeks again. It's like he's lazer guided into embarrassing me with everything he says. He must notice my face, because he continues, just to mess with me. </p><p>He talks, letting his voice go low. "You think you can do that? Stay quiet for me? I know you're loud."</p><p>"CLAY!" I shout, proving his point, punching his shoulder.</p><p>He stumbles back, laughing. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! C'mon." He says, beckoning me with a jerk of his head. </p><p>I try to hide my face in my shoulder, and swing to my feet to follow him, dragging my bag with me. I keep looking around, taking in the house and it's lack of decor as I follow him to his room. </p><p>As we reach his door he lifts a finger to his lips, shushing me. I mine zipping my mouth shut and he rolls his eyes, flopping into his chair. </p><p>"Hey, sorry about that..." Clay says into his mic. He starts his ramble, being entertaining and causing problems. I gingerly lift myself into his bed, as quietly as I can. </p><p>I settle in near him, laying down just right, so I can see what he's doing. He turns to look at me with a small smirk and wink, and immediately starts chasing someone to kill them. I have to ball his blanket it up and cover my face so I don't get picked up by the mic.</p><p>I find myself grinning like an idiot, thoroughly entertained as I watch him stream in person. </p><p>Just like when watching his streams on my phone, there are moments where I get flustered. I didn't realize how much worse it would be in person. I have to hold my breath when he slams his desk for comedic effect, turning to look at me.</p><p>Then when he tenses his hands and shouts, wry grin curling his mouth. </p><p>And when he groans in frustration from losing an otherwise good seed.</p><p>And when he gets excited, and his voice gets breathier.</p><p>I nearly have to hide myself under his blanket I grabbed. This is a circle of hell, that's for sure. I must be being tortured for the sin of my crush. </p><p>It comes to a head as he teases one of his friends. "I'm coming, I'm literally coming just— hold on." He half-shouts. I can't make out what his friends say, but I can hear the giggles and muffled speech through his headphones, having to hold back from laughing myself.</p><p>Clay grunts, shaking his head. "Yeah? I bet you'd like that..." He grumbles, getting distracted immediately by combat and shouting again. I have to swallow around my tongue, heart suddenly thumping in my chest. I thank everything that he's distracted enough killing his friends that he doesn't notice my current state.</p><p>The torture only lasts awhile after that. It isn't long before Clay is saying his goodbyes and logging. As soon as he's off he rips his headset off and shoots me a grin, doing a massive, noisy stretch. My eyes decidedly do not drift to where his shirt rides up.</p><p>"I just have to check the recording and then we can do whatever." He says, turning back and clicking around.</p><p>I nod like an idiot, not thinking about the fact that he isn't turned toward me. </p><p>"You guys are so flirty when you play." I say, a simple observation. </p><p>I see him smirk, though he doesn't turn. "It's not flirting. It's friendship. That's how friends are. Plus people like it." He says, with a few more clicks. </p><p>My eyes dart to his screen, I don't even pretend to understand what he's doing. "We're friends. You don't talk to me like that." I say.</p><p>Clay stutters, mouthing to find his words. "That's— it's— that's different." He ends up saying.</p><p>I nearly laugh, but tamp it down, fixing my face into a fake pout. "We're not friends?" I say. </p><p>He clicks a few more times and turns toward me, looking exasperated. Before he can even get something out my facade breaks and I snort the smallest laugh. </p><p>Clay glares, but smiles back. "Shut up, idiot." He says, sleeping his screen, then stands. </p><p>"Make room or perish." He says, a warning. I have only a second to move my legs before he slams himself into his bed. </p><p>"So what do you wanna do while you're here?" He asks, resting a hand on my ankle. I kick him off, too embarrassed and sensitive right now to be touched by him. </p><p>"I don't know, just hang out." I say. </p><p>Clay hums, but his focus is shifted. He took me kicking him off as a challenge, and puts both of his hands on my leg in the same spot. I kick again but his grip is tight this time, pinning my leg. </p><p>"We could go for a walk." He says, continuing the conversation like nothing is happening.</p><p>I hum, and lift my other leg, still fighting against his grip, trying to kick his stomach. "It's like... 10pm." I say, a little breathless. </p><p>Clay quickly moves one of his hands to field my hits, now holding onto both my legs. I thrash, laughing. "Let go!" I yelp. </p><p>"Yeah. It's better at night. Less people, and it's cooler." He says, sounding unfazed, then pulls, ripping me down the mattress toward him until I'm half in his lap. </p><p>I glare, but can't help my laugh, swinging out to slap him away. I regret that decision immediately. Clay moves quick, shifting to my side, catching both of my wrists in one hand each, and pinning them to the mattress above my head. He looms over me threateningly with a massive grin. All I can do is squirm underneath of him, stomach fluttering.</p><p>"I win." He says, finally acknowledging what he's been doing.</p><p>I take a moment to collect myself, heat blooming up my neck and onto my cheeks. I feel my chest rising and falling as I search his face and the energy of the situation starts to shift. My face goes lax, lips parting as I look into his eyes. His gaze drops to my mouth, hands loosening in their grip on my wrists as he shifts, and imperceptibly starts to lean in.</p><p>Is Clay about to kiss me? Something I've been thinking about for literal years? I panic, feeling like I'm not ready, overthinking if I'm going to be good enough, and knee him in the stomach. </p><p>He grunts loud, and falls to the mattress at my side, clenching his stomach. "Low blow." He grits out, groaning. Then starts to laugh.</p><p>I want to hide in a corner and die there. I was probably just overthinking things anyways. He wouldn't kiss me. It makes my chest hurt, but I somehow find the wherewithal to laugh back, turning in toward him. "Couldn't go down without a fight." I say, awkwardly. </p><p>"Yeah. I'm feeling that." Clay says. I lift my hand to pat where I kneed him and he flinches away, though, lets me connect and drag my hand across his stomach.</p><p>"I'm sorry." I say, nervously. It's his turn to bat my hand away.</p><p>"It's fine." He says, finally sounding normal. There's a small moment of tension before he speaks again and breaks it. "So how about that walk?" He asks. </p><p>I take the excuse to get out of his bed and swing to my feet. "Yeah. Sure. Let's go." I say with a half-smile, meandering toward the door. </p><p>Clay shoots up out of his bed, stumbling to get his shoes on and follow me down. </p><p>"You're certainly energetic." I say, hovering near his door as he hops toward me, pulling his second shoe on. </p><p>Clay laughs, standing up triumphantly. "I haven't done shit all day." He says. "I literally only woke up to play with you." I slip out of his room, moving toward the stairs, suddenly embarrassed again. </p><p>"Well, lucky me." I say, resolutely not looking back at him as I rush down his stairs and out his front door. I hear him following close behind. Though, he has to pause to lock up as I pick a random direction and walk ahead.</p><p>"Hey—" I hear Clay start, looking over to see him fumbling with his lock, looking after me confused. I ignore it and keep going. "Wait up—" He speaks again, at a further distance, and I continue, still walking.</p><p>I only make it a small distance further before he jogs up, catching me, and attaching himself to my side. Him and his stupid, fast-walking, long legs. </p><p>"What was all of that? Are we racing right now?" He asks, then does the hand motions of pretending to sprint. </p><p>I roll my eyes. "I was just getting a head start on you. I'm normal height, I don't move as fast as you do, Slendy." I say. </p><p>Clay laughs. "I'm offended. I can't control my height!" He says. </p><p>"Fine." I say. "Empire State Building looking ass—" I mumble under my breath. </p><p>"I heard that!" He says, then leans in.</p><p>I can feel Clay coming in for the grab, and dodge, dashing ahead. It's funny how some things are the same in real life as they are in Minecraft. Though, he probably won't pummel me to my actual death if he catches me. Maybe. </p><p>I yelp as I run away, laugh bubbling in my throat, Clay hot on my tail. I can already tell this is going to be a fun weekend.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. coincidentally (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's no surprise when I get caught by Clay and lifted. I fight, futilely, to get out of his arms, slapping at him as he carries me around like a sack of potatoes. </p><p>"You probably look like some kind of freak that kidnapped me." I whine, still writhing to get out of his hold. It makes him release me immediately, dropping me back to the ground and instead settling close by my side.</p><p>"Fine. We'll walk normal." He says, doing as much. I'm surprised he'd forfeit so quickly.</p><p>I feel pleased for a moment, adjusting to walking side by side instead of acting like idiots. After a bit, he tugs me around a turn. "There's a park like a block this way." </p><p>I narrow my eyes. "What are we supposed to do in a park?" I ask. I'm not about to go down a slide or start swinging.</p><p>He shrugs. "I dunno. Sit and stare at shit."</p><p>I guess that's reason enough. I shake off my questions and let him take the lead, dragging me off toward this park. I realize quickly that 'park' did not mean children's park, but instead meant a walking path and pond. An adult type of park. </p><p>We quickly end up sprawled in the grass under a tree, sitting and watching the water. We lean into each other, close enough that we're brushing, but not close enough to touch. There's a moment of silence, appreciation of the moment, before Clay searches for a question.</p><p>"How's school going?" He asks.</p><p>"Oh... you know. It's a process." I say with a small laugh. </p><p>"Yeah? How so?" He asks. His voice is soft, low, sincere.</p><p>I sigh, leaning into my building stress. "It's just crazy that it's my last year, and I still don't know what to do with my life." I start to pick at my nails, a nasty habit.</p><p>Clay grabs my wrist, breaking my hands apart immediately. I expect him to chastise me for picking, but he doesn't. "I can imagine that's tough." He says.</p><p>"Yeah well—" I start, feeling flustered that he still has my hand. I tug, stealing it back. "I'm doing my best." </p><p>Clay hums, leaning over to bump me with his shoulder. "You always do." He says. </p><p>I feel myself flush with embarrassment, shying away from that statement. I want to ask him how he feels about his rising social media fame, but quickly clam up, feeling like it's not my place to ask. </p><p>"How's living on your own now?" I ask, the next best thing I can think of. </p><p>Clay splits into a grin for that, flopping back into the grass. "Oh baby, you don't want to get me started." He folds his arms behind his head.</p><p>I want to follow him down and settle into his chest, but stop myself. I pluck some grass, and sprinkle it out onto his shirt. </p><p>"I mean. That's literally why I asked, idiot." I say, dumping more grass on him, watching his face for a reaction.</p><p>Clay raises his brows and blinks. "Wow. Feeling some hostile energy today." He says, but grins. </p><p>I bite my lower lip, leaning over to use my hands to arrange the grass blades into a smiley face on his shirt. </p><p>"If you must know, it's been great." He says. "Nice and quiet and empty with plenty of alone time."</p><p>I blink at him, finishing my face mission, but not being strong enough to remove my hand, still dragging a finger along his chest. </p><p>"Does it get lonely?" I ask. </p><p>Clay cranes his neck, looking at his own chest. "What are you—" he starts, interrupting himself with a grunt as he realizes. </p><p>"I'll take that as a yes." I say, nervously retracting my hand now that he's watching me. </p><p>"I mean... yeah. I guess it does. Is that a Dream face?" He asks, still craning to look down, now with a furrowed brow. </p><p>"Yep. How lonely?" I chirp back.</p><p>"Not super. I have everyone I talk to online, and my mom comes by, but still, it'll creep up on me." He says, then tilts his face up to look at me. I nervously grin back. He turns, dumping my hard work off, brushing it back to the ground.</p><p>"Hey—" I start with a pout, and end with a yelp as his arm hooks around my stomach, dragging me to lay down next to him. The second I'm flat, he retracts back into his own space. </p><p>"Felt stupid being the only one laying." He says with a quiet laugh. </p><p>There's a palpable tension that I'm impulsed to break. "Oh, yeah? Well it's because you are." I say, swinging my leg out to kick his. </p><p>Clay protests at that, rolling over and lifting to stare down at me. "Knock it off." He says, tension only getting thicker, the opposite of what I wanted.</p><p>I want to crack another joke, and try again, but I falter. I end up tilting my head back and antagonizing him. </p><p>"Make me." I say.</p><p>There's a moment of silence where Clay stares down at me, jaw ticking. Our energy shifting toward something heavier, something not quite... friendly. </p><p>I need to break the tension.</p><p>"Why so quiet? Afraid I'll suplex you into the ground like when we were in middle school?" I say with a laugh. It pretty much erases the building tension. Clay laughs, shaking his head, and flops back into the grass next to me.</p><p>"That's not fair, I hadn't hit puberty yet." He complains.</p><p>"Yeah well, based off your laugh, you still haven't." I say, teasing. </p><p>That statement alone gets his wheezing laugh out of him, and he rocks back up to sitting. I quickly sit up with him. "Yeah well, based on the way you scream when I kill you, you haven't either." He says.</p><p>I roll my eyes. </p><p>"Lets go home and pvp then. I brought my laptop. Winner has to admit they're a 13 year old pissbaby." I grin at him. "Best out of 5?"</p><p>Clay smiles, "You're on— wait—" He furrows his brow, "Shouldn't it be loser?" He asks.</p><p>"Nah. I know you'll win, so." I say with a shrug. </p><p>"Oh?" He raises his brows. "Is that a challenge? You know I'll win?" He teases.</p><p>Clay swings up to his feet, extending me a hand to help me up. "C'mon. Let's go back and find out." </p><p>I grab his hand and let him pull me to my feet, settling at his side as we walk back to his house.</p><p>***</p><p>"How?" I ask, with my head in my hands, staring at my screen. He did it, somehow. Clay lost to me in pvp, mostly by bowing himself. </p><p>He swivels his chair over to look at me where I sit on his bed. "Don't— don't feel too bad." He says, wheezing out a laugh. </p><p>I pout as he rolls himself closer, until he's up in my face. "Say it." He commands, grinning like an idiot. I shake my head no.</p><p>He stands up and slaps both of his hands to my cheeks, tilting my face up. "Say. It." </p><p>I look to the side. "I'm a 13 year old pissbaby..." I mumble out. </p><p>He leans in close, starting to laugh again. "And I'm...?"</p><p>"You're the pvp master. This is your world and we're just living in it." I sigh, then hesitate, smile pulling at my lips. "Second only to Techno." I barely mumble out.</p><p>"WHAT!?" Clay exclaims, then leans only closer for that, voice now low. "You wanna repeat that?" He asks.</p><p>I purse my lips and slap him away. "I said— I said I'm tired—" </p><p>He leans back, rolling his tongue in his mouth. "Sure, sure." But still, he drops his hands and laughs again, walking toward his closet. "You staying the night here?" He asks.</p><p>I feel myself freeze up at the question. "I mean... thought I was... is that okay?" I don't really want to go stay with my parents, I'm trying to not let them know I'm even in town. </p><p>Clay nods. "Yeah for sure. I'll just have to go set the couch up for me so you can take the bed." </p><p>"Don't you have a spare?" I ask, guilt settling in my stomach.</p><p>He fishes a pillow out of his closet. "Yeah. But I haven't furnished it yet."</p><p>Damn. </p><p>"Oh— well, I can take the couch. This is your bed anyways..." I swing to my feet and walk over.</p><p>Clay quirks a brow. "I don't want you to sleep on the couch." </p><p>"Well... I don't want you to sleep on the couch." I reply.</p><p>We stare at each other for a second, knowing the solution. I want him to say it, but know he's too respectful to suggest it, lest I feel pressured. I have to say it. </p><p>"We can just share the bed, man. It's big enough." I say, feeling every shade of awkward.</p><p>Clay shrugs, immediately pulling into a smile. "I hope so." He says, striding over and flopping down into his bed, settling in. </p><p>I hook a thumb over my shoulder. "I'm gonna go change." I say, turning on my heel to leave.</p><p>I have to go all the way down the stairs to where I left my bag. It takes me a minute to find the bathroom, but I eventually do. I'm a lot more nervous putting my pajamas on than expected, I fully figured I'd have my own bed so I didn't exactly pack... the best pajamas for sharing a bed with someone. </p><p>I shrug into my massively oversized t-shirt that I tend to sleep in, even more nervous. I spin, looking at myself in the mirror, making sure nothing's hanging out. It's probably fine. It's honestly about the length a night dress would be, still...</p><p>I chew my nail. Sleeping in a bed together... it won't be the first time we've done it. But, it's been years. When were little, like little little, we would have sleepovers and share the bed. But at some point, it stopped, and the older we got, the more it became a thing we couldn't do, and I was sequestered to a different room when spending the night.</p><p>I groan and wash my face and pull my hair up, doing the rest of what I need before bed. My stomach growls and I realize I never really ate a dinner. I end up in Clay's kitchen, spelunking for food, and end up with more junk. A pop tart, pretty much the only thing he has stocked. </p><p>I make my way back upstairs, nearly tripping and opening the package. I stand in his doorway without looking up, focused on my food. "You want me to grab the light?" I ask, hand already on the switch, then finally look up.</p><p>I freeze. Clay's now shirtless, in bed in just his sweats. </p><p>He grunts and rolls over. "Yeah. I got another light." He says, clicking on a lamp next to the bed. </p><p>I stay frozen, hand on the switch, until he eyes me like he's about to ask what I'm doing. I manage to kick myself into gear and flip off the light, then walk over to him without looking up again.</p><p>"Make room." I mumble, delicately lifting myself to Clay's bed. He shifts over almost minutely.</p><p>I settle into the bed, and try to wriggle my way under the covers with him. He huffs a laugh at my struggle, before moving the comforter to blanket me as well. He catches what I'm eating, and steals half for himself despite my protests. </p><p>I spend a moment eating, watching him scroll his Twitter in silence before I finish and pull out my phone. I'm not feeling too tired, despite the fact that it's a bit past 2 am, probably all nerves. I make the genius decision to scroll TikTok.</p><p>We stay separate like that for a little, both winding down. But, I see something funny. I lean over into his space, showing him the video. I do it again, until he just starts peaking over my shoulder at every video. It devolves until we're huddled up, laughing, commentating, and scrolling together with his head hooked over my shoulder. </p><p>I have control of the phone, scrolling my for you page. I scroll and scroll, happy and comfortable. I choose to ignore that we're basically spooning. I can feel Clay's breath hot on my ear, and his chest rumble against my back as he speaks, making fun of the videos.</p><p>The next video plays and I immediately recognize it as a clip of him. I try to scroll past, fast. </p><p>"Wait—" Clay starts, shooting his hand out to grab my phone. I nearly shout, pulling my phone away. But I'm too slow, he snatches it out of my grip and scrolls back up.</p><p>He watches the clip with raised brows. It's of his stream today. I hear the words that got me earlier. "I'm coming, I'm literally coming just— hold on." Plays from my phone once, then twice. </p><p>Clay turns his attention to look at my face, brows still raised. I want to wither away into dust.</p><p>"You get stuff like that on your for you page? You watch that stuff? Of me?" He starts, wheezing a laugh.</p><p>I heat as the audio repeats again. I finally snatch my phone back and close the app. "N-no," I flounder to find an excuse, "I like the videos of Sapnap so sometimes I get suggested your stuff." I say, trying to hide my face. </p><p>Clay's smile immediately goes tight. "Oh. Yeah totally." He says with a laugh, quieter. "So you like Sapnap?" He asks.</p><p>There's a moment of silence where I search his face. He sounds... hurt, almost. He blinks, then sets his face, like he's steadying himself. "I don't—" I start. He lifts a hand to cup my face, then interrupts. </p><p>"Your face is so warm. You're flustered." He says.</p><p>"I— I—" I stutter again. I am. But that's something different. </p><p>"You can't even talk! You must really like him." Clay starts again, then breaks into a grin that doesn't quite meet the eyes. "You have a crush or something?" </p><p>I finally find my voice. "No. No, Clay, I'm into someone else." I say, nervously swallowing around my tongue. I wonder briefly if I've been caught in my crush.</p><p>He hums, looking no less hurt. There's another moment of silence where we just stare at each other, when he finally lets his face go serious, dragging his thumb along my cheek. His voice is quiet, soft, as he speaks. </p><p>"Is that why you didn't let me kiss you earlier?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. it’s you (smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I feel my heart nearly thump out of my chest. So he was going to kiss me earlier. </p><p>Clay's still looking at me dead on, expression tight yet vulnerable. I want to squirm away, praying I don't mess this up.</p><p>"I— I—" I start again, already stuttering. I close my eyes and take a steadying breath. </p><p>"No. That's because the person I'm into is you." I say. I see his lips part in surprise, brow furrowing as he cups my face, I barrel on. "I've been into you for like six fucking years."</p><p>Clay blinks, entire face pulled tight. "You never said anything..." He says, sounding breathless. "Why wouldn't you tell me I—" </p><p>I interrupt him this time, with my explanation. "I've known you for... literally forever, Clay. I was afraid I'd lose our friendship if I ever made a move." I say, voice small. </p><p>"If you think I'd ever let anything ruin our friendship, you're wrong." He says. </p><p>I open my mouth to speak again, but he talks first. "Can I kiss you now? Please?" He asks. </p><p>My whole body tingles, heart trying to escape my chest into my throat. I manage to nod and he leans forward, tilting me up to meet for a kiss with his hand on my cheek. </p><p>I melt as our lips connect, eyes falling shut. I try to hold back but can't, and moan softly against his mouth. Clay starts to move, pressing into the kiss and licking into my mouth. I shiver, bringing my hand up his chest, feeling like I'm fucking floating as I moan again.</p><p>It feels like everything. </p><p>He pulls back quicker than I want, breaking the kiss to breathe. I whine into air, lifting back into the space where he was. He huffs a small laugh. </p><p>"You want more?" He asks, voice low and tender. I lift to wrap my arms around his shoulders, tugging him back toward me, nodding. </p><p>"Please." I say. It's simple but desperate. </p><p>I see a flash of Clay's smile before he surges forward, kissing me again. It's less tender, more heat. I try not to whimper as we meet, getting pushed into the mattress by his now aggressive kiss. I'm content just for this level of contact, something I'd resigned myself to never have.</p><p>I shiver as Clay's hand drops from my face to my waist, arching into his touch. He uses it to guide me until I'm flat on my back and follows, shifting to settle on top of me. He keeps his hand on my waist, gently stroking small circles with his thumb. His other arm brackets my head in, supporting his weight and keeping him lifted above me.</p><p>I barely manage to find the consciousness I need to part my legs, giving Clay the space he needs to settle between them. I push one hand up, dragging it through his hair. I hook my hand in and tug. It's his turn to moan into my mouth, pulling against my grip to push his tongue into my mouth. </p><p>The air between us is getting heavier, soft panted breaths and unspoken words weighing the situation as we try to communicate something with our mouths. Clay drops his hand from my waist, grabbing the hem of my shirt and slowly rucking it up to just above my belly button, dragging his hand along the sensitive skin of my as stomach as he goes. </p><p>Then he shifts again, lifting his hips, moving high enough on my body to grind himself between my legs. His hand also dips, fingertips hooking into the top of my panties at my hip and pulling.</p><p>It feels so good. But it's so much. So fast. </p><p>I whine, tapping out on his shoulder and pulling out of the kiss. "Wait—" I barely manage to choke out. </p><p>Clay pulls back immediately, retracting his hand, but still holding himself above me. I tilt my chin up, looking at him. His lips are red from kissing, hair pushed out of place, bright red flush covering his face, small panted breaths escaping his lips. I wonder if I look similarly gone.  </p><p>"Something wrong?" He asks, searching my face as his tongue darts out to swipe over his lip. </p><p>"Slower. Please." I manage to say, squeezing his shoulder where my hand rests. </p><p>Clay grins. "Yeah, of course." He then immediately flops back to the mattress at my side, propping his upper body half-up on his pillows. I whine for that. I said slower not stop. </p><p>"Sorry—" He starts again, then laughs, "I guess I just got excited." He pats his chest, still staring at me. "C'mere. You set the pace." He says. Oh. </p><p>"You can stop me anytime, too." I say, quiet, making sure I don't push him too far either. He nods with a soft smile, acknowledging what I said.</p><p>I have to steady myself before I manage to follow. I plant both hands on his Clay's chest, then shift until I'm half on top of him. I don't bother to keep myself lifted, pressing our chests flush together. His hand seems to instinctively lift, cupping my face to guide me down for the kiss. The second we meet his hand moves back, following my jaw until it hooks into my hair. </p><p>It's Clay's turn to pull my hair, though I react almost the same as him, moaning into the kiss. He smiles against my mouth at my reaction and tugs hard, again. I nip at his lip in return. He sighs, returning the same energy and biting my lip before pushing in for a deeper kiss, our tongues sliding together. </p><p>It makes heat curl deep in my stomach. I break the kiss, pulling off and sitting up, shrugging Clay's hands off of me. He looks up at me, confused, for only a moment before I lift my leg and move to straddle his stomach. </p><p>We stare at each other for just a second before I lean in and peck his lips once more, pulling away before he can deepen the kiss. Then, I sit up straight. We make heated eye-contact, before I grab the hem of my shirt and slowly start to pull it up.</p><p>Clay's eyes drop from my face immediately, following the line of skin as I reveal it, higher and higher. I hesitate for just a moment, then pull the whole thing off. His hands immediately land on my hips, squeezing tight. I search his face, seeing his lips slightly parted, eyes locked to my breasts. His expression is soft, surprised.</p><p>I lean in, planting one hand to his chest to steady myself and curl the other around his wrist, guiding it higher on my body, up my ribs. I shiver at the feeling of his hand dragging against my skin. I lean in until we share breath.</p><p>"You can touch me." I say, searching his face. He doesn't move immediately, just stroking the skin of my ribs under my breast. I exhale and speak again, tugging his hand higher. "Please, my—" </p><p>Clay's hand moves quick this time, sliding up to my breast and groping it. I sigh as he makes contact, arching into the touch. I lean over until we're kissing again, a lot more desperately, as he moves, kneading my breast. I plant my free hand to the mattress next to his head, the other still firm on his chest.</p><p>Clay's hand shifts again, moving until he's grazing his thumb over my nipple. I moan into his mouth, and he reacts by pinching, rolling my nipple between his fingers. I gasp into his mouth, arching and shivering, breaking the kiss completely as I focus on the sensation, bucking my hips.</p><p>"Yeah?" He asks, sounding pleased.</p><p>I manage to crack my eyes open to look at his face, seeing that he looks smug. I nod, only managing to whine in response as he pinches again. My thighs tense, squeezing his abdomen. </p><p>I shift myself higher on him, arching my upper body to push my breasts forward. </p><p>"You can—" I'm interrupted with another gasp as he pinches again. "Your mouth. You can use your mouth." I manage to moan out, despite his best efforts to keep me stimulated. </p><p>"Oh?" Clay starts, "I can?" He asks, still teasing me.</p><p>I whimper, barely able to keep my eyes open. "Please. Clay. Shut the fuck up for once. Put your mouth to better use."</p><p>"Pushy, pushy." He mumbles, chastising me. </p><p>Still, his hand leaves my chest completely, pressing to the center of my back and guiding me closer. I get in another whine at the loss of sensation before I feel his breath exhale, hot against my chest. </p><p>It's the only warning I get before he latches on, pressing my nipple flat with his tongue and lathing it. I let out a desperate moan, hand tensing in the sheets, the other digging my nails into his chest. </p><p>Clay drops his free hand, grabbing my ass. I feel him smile against my skin, then tighten both of his hands, holding me in place as he sucks, hard. </p><p>I nearly cry out, body shivering from the stimulation. "Fuck. Clay—" I'm interrupted by another moan as he rolls my nipple with his teeth. </p><p>I exhale shakily as he pulls back, just using his tongue again. I tighten my grip on his chest, nails digging deeper. I thought I'd do better like this, but everything he does makes my body sing. Turns out, it can be overwhelming to have what you've wanted for so long. </p><p>I slap against Clay's chest, moaning, trying to tap out again. This time, not to slow down, but to tell him to just take control. He pulls back completely, moving both hands to rest on my waist, gently stroking the skin there. </p><p>"What's up?" He asks, voice soft.</p><p>I blink down at him, tilting my head back to expose my throat. I lift to my knees and start to move down toward where I want to be. I roll back into his lap, once, saying what I want without words, and it's all it takes. </p><p>Clay groans, tightening his grip and flipping me to my back. He lands between my legs, hard, rolling his hips to grind against me. We connect for another messy kiss that only lasts a moment before his head dips, traveling down my neck. </p><p>He kisses my neck, scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin there, slowly working down to my shoulder, mouth hot. I feel like I'm about to crumble, darting both hands up to thread into his hair and hold on for dear life. </p><p>Clay kisses my shoulder once, then shifts his hips away. I arch under him, trying to chase the contact, but only connect with his stomach. I whine, at a loss for anything else to say. He continues to drift lower, dragging his mouth down to my collarbone, and licking there.</p><p>I feel my heart thump in my throat as I realize what he's doing. I squeeze him with my thighs, stilling his movement as he passes over my breasts and kisses my rib cage. I tug at his hair again. My body feels like it has a mind of its own. I want it, but I'm beyond embarrassed.</p><p>"You okay?" Clay asks, lips still brushing my skin.</p><p>I manage a nod, and he drops his hand to my thigh, pushing my leg down and pinning it to the mattress until I relax again. He quickly hooks his fingers into my panties at my hips and starts to pull them off. I lift my legs to help, feeling my entire body heat as he exposes me. </p><p>Clay just looks, both hands gripping my inner thighs as he keeps my legs spread, fully on display under him. He lowers himself after a moment. I feel my hips instinctively lift as his mouth connects with my stomach, slowly dragging lower as he shifts down the mattress. </p><p>I flit my eyes up, too embarrassed to keep watching, writhing under Clay as his lips ghost my hip. I feel like I can't stop moving, responding to every touch with a twitch or buck. </p><p>Clay stays teasing, pressing kisses to my inner thigh, hips, and stomach, never making the contact I want. </p><p>"Please—" I beg before I can stop myself, lifting my hips again.</p><p>I hear Clay laugh, and look back down to find him watching my face, his head resting on my hip as he traces the dip of my thigh with his finger. </p><p>"What?" He asks, grinning predatorily, suddenly moving both hands to grip my hips and pin me to the mattress. "Is there something you want?" He asks.</p><p>I whine, fighting to move under him. </p><p>"Use your words." He says.</p><p>"Please just— touch me, anything—" I manage to moan out, feeling gone, heart still in my throat. </p><p>I feel Clay's hands leave my hips, moving closer between my legs. He uses both thumbs to spread me open then leans in, finally making contact with my pussy, leading with his tongue. </p><p>I nearly shout, hips immediately lifting. I shoot both hands out to cover my mouth, insanely embarrassed about the noises I'm making as Clay finally starts to stimulate me.</p><p>Even covering my mouth I hear myself moaning desperately, hips constantly rolling to ride his tongue. He... knows what he's doing. His tongue curls around my clit, the exact right speed. My thighs just barely shiver with each pass of his tongue. </p><p>I try to console myself, knowing I'm only going this crazy because it's him. I feel like a puddle under him as he works with his tongue between my legs, responding with small moans of his own. </p><p>Clay pulls back to readjust, threading one arm under my leg until his hand rests on my waist, the other holds me open until he reconnects with his mouth. I feel my hands grip on air, not sure where to put them as it gets increasingly difficult to form a coherent thought.</p><p>My legs twitch as he keeps going, fucking me with his tongue. My hands eventually settle, one resting on Clay's head, the other cupping my own breast. I let my eyes shut, losing myself in the sensation of him between my legs, moaning desperately.</p><p>It doesn't take long before every little movement has me shaking, heat building in my stomach as I barrel toward an orgasm embarrassingly fast. I moan, high, body pulled tight, and tug his hair.</p><p>"Clay—" I moan out, a warning. </p><p>He only pushes in deeper, tongue moving faster, harder. I grit my teeth, face contorting. </p><p>"I'm so close—" I moan again.</p><p>I arch into Clay's mouth, then cum with a strangled shout. Suddenly it's like I can't stop moving, entire body shaking, hips rolling desperately as I ride his tongue. He keeps going, bringing me through my orgasm, until it's too much. </p><p>I whine, trying to pull my hips away as he keeps going, dragging his tongue through my cum-sensitive pussy. He keeps me pinned, hum low in his chest as he over-stimulates me. </p><p>"Please." I beg, going crazy from the sensation, pulling on his hair, hard.</p><p>Clay finally pulls back with a small laugh, pressing a kiss to my thigh. I melt into the mattress under him, legs feeling as good as liquid. He lifts just barely, resting his head on my stomach, rising and falling with my panted breaths. </p><p>I sigh, contented, petting his hair. I cannot believe that actually just happened, and I can't find the courage to look at him. I arch my body, swallowing hard, adjusting. </p><p>"You still okay?" Clay asks with a laugh, pressing another kiss to my stomach.</p><p>I tilt my head back, still afraid to look down. "Yeah. It's just... my heart is pounding." I finally look down at him to see he has a soft expression.</p><p>"That good?" He asks, grinning like an idiot. </p><p>"Yeah that was—" I start, dragging in a massive breath, steadying myself. "That was like a fucking wet dream." I say. I can see the trouble shine in his eyes. </p><p>"Well it wasn't. But you're about to experience a different type of Dream— WHAT?!" He yelps as I smack his head.</p><p>I giggle under him, still feeling gooey. "You're so stupid." I say, but my face stays fixed into a smile. "C'mere." I say, softer.</p><p>Clay rolls his eyes, but lifts himself up onto his knees, moving back up the bed. My eyes lock to his lap and I briefly thank whatever God exists for grey sweatpants as he settles at my side.</p><p>I turn in to Clay's chest and we kiss again. It's slower, more relaxed. It's... interesting to taste myself on his mouth. But it's a good kind of interesting, one I could get used to.</p><p>I move my hand down, palming his hard dick over his sweatpants. He smiles against my mouth immediately, pushing into the kiss. I decide to say fuck it, and lift my hand, pushing it through his waistband into his boxers, wrapping my hand around his cock and stroking up the full length.</p><p>Clay pulls out of the kiss, exhaling sharply, swearing under his breath. I search his face, seeing it's his turn to have his eyes closed now, brow drawn tight. </p><p>I lean in to kiss his neck, and slowly start pumping his cock. "You want me to return the favor?" I ask.</p><p>"Son of a fuck." Is all Clay says, and I laugh, licking at his neck.</p><p>I retract my hand, lifting it to his chest and guiding him to lay on his back. He opens his eyes again, watching me as he follows my lead, settling back into his pillows. I sit back for a moment, redoing my ponytail. It got messed up while we were necking. </p><p>Maintaining eye-contact, Clay lifts his hips, shoving his sweats and boxers halfway down his thighs. He grabs his cock, slowly stroking it. I can't help but stare. It's a healthy length, maybe 7 or 8 inches, just slightly curved, flushed red with blood. </p><p>I want it in my mouth. </p><p>I smile as I finish tying my hair and shift down the mattress, excited as I settle between his legs. I waste no time, laying down, and immediately pushing his hand out of the way, replacing it with my own. I watch his abdomen tense as I lean in, guiding the head of his cock in to my mouth. I look up at him. </p><p>I watch as Clay's head immediately falls back on his shoulders and he lets out a guttural moan. He stutters out a desperate breath, mouth falling open and staying open as I start to suck his cock.</p><p>I moan around it, just to see the way he reacts. It's enough that he lifts his hips off the mattress in an aborted thrust, trying to bury in my mouth. I give him what he wants and move forward, taking as much as I can into my mouth and starting to slowly move my head. </p><p>He keeps swearing under his breath, swinging up one hand to cup my face, thumb pressed to the corner of my lips just to feel himself in my mouth. I curl my tongue around the shaft, following a vein up to the ridge of his cock's head, then trace that with my tongue.</p><p>"Holy shit—" Clay grits out, keening. I hold it for a moment longer, then pop off, smiling as I replace my mouth with my hand, stroking his cock while I catch my breath. </p><p>Clay's hand moves from my face to my hair, guiding me back in. I'm more than happy to oblige, parting my lips and burying his cock back into my mouth. I start to bob my head, sucking him off. </p><p>I swallow around Clay's cock as he moans, feeling my spit drooling down the length. It's hard to self-preserve, listening to him lose himself in the sensation, wild noises streaming out of him.</p><p>We keep this up for awhile longer before his hand tenses in my hair, pulling me.</p><p>"Baby— Ah fuck— I'm close—" He warns. </p><p>I feel everything warm at the affectionate petname, swallowing one more time before I slowly drag myself off his cock. I immediately replace my mouth with my hand, rapidly jacking him off.</p><p>I feel him tense. Watching as he rocks forward, lifting his hips, his cock jerks in my hand. I squeeze him as he finishes, still moving my hand, just slower. I flinch, most of his cum shooting right onto my face. I still keep jacking him off, milking his cock for all it's worth. </p><p>I look down, lips parted, exhaling softly as I watch my hand move on his cock. Almost instinctively, I dart my tongue out to my lip to taste his cum.</p><p>I hear Clay swearing before I feel him. He grabs my hand, pulling it off, still moaning.</p><p>"Jesus Christ." Is all he says, followed by a moan, voice rough with sex.</p><p>I manage to look up at his face again, seeing he looks flushed and relaxed now, his eyes half-lidded. I hum, pleased, letting myself get dragged up. I watch him grope the mattress, producing a shirt, and he starts wiping the cum off my face.</p><p>I laugh, letting him. "Nice aim." I say, joking.</p><p>Clay huffs a laugh in return. "Not my fault. I warned you." He finishes wiping my face and pulls back.</p><p>My eyes catch on the cloth he used and I groan. It's my shirt. "Shit. That was supposed to be my pajamas for the weekend." </p><p>Clay looks at me in surprise. "I'm sorry, you can just borrow one of my shirts to sleep in." He says. </p><p>Neither of us makes a move to go grab one, both too cum-lax to manage it. I start to pout. "You get it." I say. "It's your fault." </p><p>Clay groans but listens, swinging to his feet, pulling his sweats back up and walking toward his closet to dig. He returns with a soft looking long sleeve. </p><p>"Good boy." I say, taking it from him and starting to slip it over my head.</p><p>I hear him huff another laugh, before I feel the mattress dip next to me as he flops back into bed. He quickly turns off the light, and I finish putting his shirt on. It feels like a prize. Unabashedly, he grabs me and drags me into his arms, cuddling me. A small contented noise escapes my throat and I settle in against his chest, closing my eyes. </p><p>"G'nite, baby." Clay mumbles out. </p><p>I can feel my heart thump, and I bury my face deeper into his chest, somewhat still in disbelief at what just happened. </p><p>"G'nite." I barely murmur back, letting myself lean in toward sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. overthinking (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wake up disoriented and warm. I smack my lips, blinking sleep from my eyes and take in my surroundings. Clay has his arms wrapped around me, tight, and he's half on top of me, blanketing me. I take a second to process that.</p><p>Right.</p><p>Last night we—</p><p>I'm pulled from my thought by a meow. My eyes dart around, landing on the floor where Patches politely sits. I wriggle my way out of Clay's arms, immediately dipping down to pet her.</p><p>I look back, seeing Clay move, and decide to take my leave. Quietly, I escape, even as he stirs, making my way downstairs with my phone. I dart into the bathroom quick.</p><p>My eyes catch on myself in the mirror on my way out. My hair is messed, a small hickey I don't remember getting on my collarbone where the collar of Clay's shirt lays stretched. </p><p>And then there's that. His shirt. I'm in his shirt. My breath hitches and I flee the bathroom, wandering back into the living room. I curl up with my phone, resolute to scroll social media and not think about what happened.</p><p>I'm surprised when I see that it's still relatively early in the morning, just a bit past 9 am. We must've been up past 3 or 4 am. But, my brain is functioning on school time, making it impossible to sleep-in even when I want to. </p><p>I start to pick at my nails, failing at being distracted, already overthinking. I really like Clay. Like... way more than like. After last night that feeling is only greater. We didn't really talk about anything like that though. We didn't really talk at all. We just...</p><p>I hear a thump from upstairs and I further curl in on myself, not sure what to expect, or what to even say. What if it's awkward? What if we can't be friends after this? What if he doesn't want anything more than to fuck? </p><p>I swivel my head, turning to watch Clay descend the stairs, cradling his cat like a baby. </p><p>"She woke me up just because she's hungry." He says, grinning. I huff a small laugh. It's comforting to just watch him coo over and baby his cat. It makes things feels normal. </p><p>Clay disappears into the kitchen, I hear the sink run, and the shake of food, then he reappears, catless. I swallow nervously as he walks right for me. He arches over me, reaching for me, and I freeze up. He leans in and immediately kisses my cheek once, then moves toward my jaw, now cradling me. </p><p>I slap at his chest, pushing him off. His brows draw tight into a look of confusion. "Morning breath." I say with an awkward laugh as my excuse.</p><p>Clay rolls his eyes but relents, flopping to the couch next to me, scrolling his phone. I look at him for a moment, feeling my entire body tense, and realize I need to bring it up before I overthink myself into oblivion and avoid it for the rest of forever. </p><p>"So..." I start, picking at my fingers again. Clay looks up at me with lifted brows, then drops his sight to my hands. He sits up nonchalant, tugging at my wrist to pull my hands apart. </p><p>"So?" He asks, keeping a hold of my hand and rubbing small circles with his thumb. I nearly cry in frustration, pulling my hand back. </p><p>I sigh. "So... what just happened?" I ask nervously. </p><p>Clay laughs, "What do you mean?" His eyes dart around. "Did something happen?" </p><p>I roll my eyes back into my head. "You know what I mean." I say. He laughs.</p><p>"I dunno either. Two adult friends started fucking, and they're probably gonna do it again." He says, voice still humored.</p><p>I twist my hands in my lap. That's it? </p><p>I force myself to smile, eyes locked to my hands unable to look at him. "Oh are they?" I tease, disappointment settling low in my stomach. </p><p>Clay nods, and leans in close grabbing one of my hands again. "Hey." He says, voice suddenly soft and serious. </p><p>"Don't get all sad on me. I'm way into you too. Like more than friends type of into you." </p><p>I finally look up, and see that his expression is sincere, it makes me feel breathless. </p><p>"Just— I don't wanna call it anything yet," He sighs, voice tight. "You know I just got out of a relationship and I..." He tapers off, expression severe. </p><p>I nod. It hurts a little, but it's fair. I'm happy to be something undeclared and work toward figuring out whatever this is going to be, together.</p><p>"We can take it slow and feel things out then." I say. Clay looks up into my eyes, looking relieved. I smile back, soft and small.</p><p>His lips curl into a wry grin. "Kinda a little late to take things slow—" I interrupt him, groaning loud and rolling my eyes back in my head. </p><p>"Shut up." I chastise, but still laugh, tension from the serious conversation breaking as we resettle. </p><p>So... we're in the talking stage, and we just so happen to have already fucked. Oops. I look at Clay, seeing him scrolling his phone again and briefly feel thankful for the distance between us. </p><p>I'd do it again in a heartbeat. </p><p>Clay catches me staring and drops his phone, lifting his brows. "What are you thinking?" He asks.</p><p>I purse my lips. "I... uh..."  There's no way I'm telling the truth. Oh! "I'm hungry, and I was just thinking about how I'll kill and eat you before I eat another pop tart." I say with a small smile, feeling smug.</p><p>Clay laughs. "No... don't eat me. You're so... thick." He says, teasing. </p><p>"Minecraft... but we coded it so you're dummy thick and the clap of your ass cheeks breaks blocks." I say, grinning, knowing I look and sound like an absolute idiot.</p><p>It's worth it to hear Clay's wheezing laugh. I laugh in return, happy we can act like normal, despite the circumstances. </p><p>"We could hit up the Taco Bell drive-through or something for breakfast." He says, still tapering off his laugh.</p><p>I pout. "Wow. I put out and all I get is Taco Bell? Clay... I'm no dollar menu whore." I say, teasing. </p><p>Clay laughs, rolling his eyes. "Right. Right. Sorry. How about like... a diner breakfast? I could order it for here." </p><p>I fake a gasp. "You would pay the $4.99 delivery fee plus tax and tip just for me?" I exclaim. "High class."</p><p>"Oh? Did I say you were allowed to eat it? Like you can watch I guess... maybe fight with Patches for scraps on the floor." He says, trying to sound serious. </p><p>"That's fine. I can get all the calories I need just from looking at food." I say. Clay nods, looking like he's about to respond. I continue, talking quickly and quietly under my breath. "Plus then I can keep my morning skinny and look better when I'm under you in an hour..." </p><p>Clay's head shoots up, and he sits up, reaching for me. "Wait— what—" </p><p>"I said I'm gonna shower!" I yelp, swinging to my feet, snagging my bag and running away from Clay toward the bathroom, leaving him on the couch. I'm embarrassed at what I said, but I don't regret it. It was 100% a joke, anyways.</p><p>Okay maybe 99% a joke.</p><p>I shed his shirt and start the water, looking at what he has in the shower. My eyes catch on the 2in1 shampoo-conditioner and I shake my head, thankful I brought my own shower supplies. It's something we can work on later.</p><p>I blast the shower to ultra-hot and get to scrubbing. I feel super gross, skin sticky with sweat and... other fluids, from last night's escapades. I let myself stay in the shower absurdly long, until the water runs cold. I hope the extra time will mean Clay's forgotten what I said earlier. </p><p>I must be in the bathroom close to an hour, just sitting in the water and thinking about everything, relaxed. When I finally hop out I come to the distinct realization that I didn't grab a towel. I check under his sink, nothing. </p><p>I want to slam my head into a wall. </p><p>I prop the door open and peek my head out. "Clay?" I call out.</p><p>"What?" He calls back. </p><p>"Where do you keep towels?" </p><p>I hear nothing back and sigh, opening the door just a little further and peeking out. Suddenly, Clay appears at the end of his hall and I yelp, backing up into the bathroom. </p><p>He walks up close, and leans in. "What'd you ask?" </p><p>I flounder for a moment. So he just didn't hear me. "Towels? Where are the towels?" I ask again.</p><p>"Oh." He says, then spins, taking maybe one step to the side and opening a closet. He picks one towel from a pile and holds it out.</p><p>I delicately push my hand through the door and grab at it.</p><p>Clay leans in, hand landing on the bathroom door as I retreat with the towel. "Why are you doing that? I've already seen you naked—" I slam the door shut in his face, fighting a cackle. </p><p>"Good one." He shouts from behind the door, but I hear him immediately retreat, back to whatever he was doing.</p><p>I towel my body off quick, then wrap my hair. </p><p>I'm embarrassed as I start to search through my bag for clothes. I decidedly... did not pack for a weekend where I'd need to be cute. I grimace as I pull out a pair of boy-shorts underwear and a t-shirt dress with a hole in the sleeve. I stick my finger through the hole and sigh.</p><p>Next time I'll pack better. It's not my fault, I didn't know this was going to be the situation. At least I'll be comfortable. Plus, it's not like Clay hasn't seen me in this or worse a million times before.</p><p>It just... feels different now. </p><p>I get dressed and drop my hair, shaking it out. I quickly finish my morning grooming and shuffle out of the bathroom with my bag, headed for the living room.</p><p>I smell the food before I see it. Syrup and salt and fat and grease. I drop my bag to the floor and wander into the kitchen, finding Clay already hunched over, eating food while standing. </p><p>He looks up, shoveling hash-browns into his mouth. I slide up to his side, grimacing. </p><p>"You look feral." I say, lifting my brows. </p><p>He smiles, purposely showing his chewed up food and I turn, fake gagging. </p><p>"So is any of this for me?" I ask, poking one of the many styrofoam take-out containers spread out on the counter. It's an absurd amount of food, so some of it should be. </p><p> Clay grunts and slides a box at me, swallowing roughly. "This one and—" He grabs one of the smaller containers. "This one." </p><p>I raise my brows. Two of seven are mine, then. I hate male metabolism. I open the small container and see cinnamon pancakes. I melt, grabbing my fork and eating while standing with Clay. </p><p>"I'm sitting— standing— here in the most expensive restaurant in Orlando." I take a bite. "Enjoying my meal." I say, muffled around the food. It's stupid, but worth it for the wheeze I get out of Clay. </p><p>I collect both of my containers and wander into Clay's living room. He can continue standing like a freak, but I need to settle in. He makes a noise and follows me, grabbing as many containers as he can physically hold. </p><p>We settle on opposite ends of his couch. I keep my food in my lap, but he lays his out like a spread on his coffee table. He puts on some random Netflix anime. We spend some time eating and joking about the show.</p><p>We stay in the living room, even after finishing eating, having gotten invested in watching the show. Clay ate four of his containers, putting one away for later, as well as polished off my food once I was done. </p><p>We're both zonked out, stuffed out of our minds and exhausted. I side-eye Clay, thinking about settling in for a nap. I decide to just do it. I sit up and crawl over to his half of the couch. </p><p>"What are you—" Is all Clay gets out before I flop down, nuzzling my head into his lap. </p><p>"'M tired again." I mumble out, smiling up at him. </p><p>He smiles back, but rags on me. "You're the one that chose to get up at 9." </p><p>I ignore him and turn myself in, burying my face in his stomach. I can feel his hand lift, hovering close to me, briefly hesitating before he lays it on my head, playing with my hair. </p><p>I relax easily like that, settling into a mid-morning slumber.</p><p>***</p><p>I wake up with a massive stretch, looking around, realizing I'm back in Clay's bed. He must've carried me here at some point. I take in my surroundings, and see he's at his computer, hunched over, coding and eating again. I make a small noise to alert him that I'm up, shoving his comforter off of me.</p><p>Clay swivels to look at me with a raised brow. "Finally up?" He asks.</p><p>I nod, still sleepy. </p><p>"You're like the middle-aged dads that brag about waking up at 6 am then pass out on the couch as soon as they sit." He says. I grab for a pillow and throw it at him as he shouts, though he catches it. </p><p>"Don't compare me to a forty year old man." I say with a groan.</p><p>"You're just angry that I'm right." Clay says, laughing.</p><p>I roll my eyes and lift up to sitting, trying to peek at what he's doing. Like I'll suddenly know anything about coding. I walk over, feeling confident and plop down in his lap. He exhales, surprised, dropping his food to his desk.</p><p>His face splits into an excited grin and I feel pleased that I have that kind of effect on him. </p><p>"Hi." Clay says, still grinning. "This is nice. I like this. We can do this more often." </p><p>"Hi." I say back, then lean in, kissing his cheek. We stare at each other for a moment, before I swing a arm around his shoulder and turn toward the screen. "Show me what you're doing." I say.</p><p>Clay grabs his desk, excitedly tugging us up to it. "Okay— so it's Minecraft right, but—" I zone out, staring at his face as he talks through the technicals. </p><p>He's told me about stuff like this before, but everything feels so different. It's like having a new view of something you've seen a million times from only one angle. I sigh, soft contented smile spreading my face, and settle into his lap as he continues typing, listening as well as I can as he explains what he's doing. </p><p>I stay in his lap, watching him code until he's done. As soon as he's done he slaps his hands to his desk. "Wanna get in some craft time? I've got like... two hours before I should play with the boys." He says. </p><p>I nod, though hesitant to leave his hold, I do. I meander back over to his bed, flipping my laptop back open and flopping over. I launch our RLCraft game, wandering around until he logs on. </p><p>The second he's on I act a fool, typing into the chat.</p><p>'oh my god...'<br/>'what if we put our beds together...'<br/>'like what would you do...'</p><p>Clay laughs, but I hear his keyboard click as he types back.</p><p>'what's a bed'<br/>'sleep is for weak, unskilled gamers'</p><p>He walks up and punches me, then I hear typing again.</p><p>'r u gril?'</p><p>I roll my eyes.</p><p>'yea uwu'</p><p>He drops all of his armor on me, then crouches, looking at the ground, I hold back a laugh.</p><p>'thx im actually boy' </p><p>Clay runs off with his character, jumping into a lava pool, and I real laugh. </p><p>I'm surprised when I hear Clay slam his desk. "It glitched!" He shouts.</p><p>I lift my head, craning my neck to see it took him to a random spawn location, the way RLCraft does when you don't have a set spawn. I full body laugh at him. </p><p>"Sucks to suck." I say as he pouts, and restarts the first portion of the game. It's not that hard, but it can be annoying. </p><p>We spend the next hour getting him home and double checking his spawn is set, still making fun of each other in the in-game chat. The hour after that we mess around, trying to get up to diamond gear, mining together. </p><p>We do end up with our beds together. I take white and he takes black.</p><p>After a awhile longer, Clay says the words I've been dreading. "Okay. I gotta go log on. George's streaming." He says. </p><p>I sigh and pout, saving and closing our game. "I'll head downstairs." I say.</p><p>Clay swivels in his seat, staring at me. "You can just stay up here, as long as you stay quiet like yesterday." He says.</p><p>I hesitate, but shake my head. "Nah, I think I should just go downstairs. I'm feeling not very confident in my ability to not make noise." I say. </p><p>Clay shrugs. "It's your choice." He says, then looks at me. "Just know that I want you up here." He says, then turns in to start setting his shit up. </p><p>I feel myself heat with the words. Still, I grab my laptop and head downstairs. I settle into his couch with my phone, tuning in to George's stream. It seems to start normal, but the more I listen, the more I realize how different it feels to listen like this.</p><p>Most of the stream is relaxing, normal. Though, there's a very... interesting... conversation in the middle. </p><p>"Yeah what's your type then?" I hear Sapnap ask. Clay and George were just teasing him for saying he liked girls that have curly hair.</p><p>George laughs. "I like girls who play Minecraft." He says. </p><p>"Who are also green and speedrunners and named Dream?" Sapnap teases. </p><p>Clay laughs, bright and clear. "I like girls who are named George and aren't girls." He says.</p><p>I snort a laugh at that. </p><p>"No but really, what's your type?" Sapnap pushes. </p><p>"I'm curious now, too." George responds.</p><p>Clay hums. "Um... I dunno. I guess I like girls who are into... Minecraft mods and pancakes who wear my shirts to sleep." He says. </p><p>I squawk a laugh, he's just describing me. </p><p>George raises his brows, looking around. "Sounds kinda specific, Dream. What's her name?" He says.</p><p>"Wouldn't you like to know?" Clay immediately responds. </p><p>George's jaw immediately drops. "There is a girl? You didn't tell me? I'm hurt Dream." He says.</p><p>Sapnap interjects. "Name! Name! Name! Name!" He chants, and Clay laughs. George immediately joins the chant, demanding details.</p><p>I'm suddenly very thankful I chose to come downstairs. I'm insanely embarrassed and squeaky, I couldn't even imagine how I'd be if I was in Clay's room with him. </p><p>"Daddy chill." Clay says, and I nearly shout, laughing aloud. "You know I'll always love you most." He says. </p><p>The rest of the conversation goes as expected, the three of them devolving into jokes. I'm glad I've finally calmed down by the time he logs. I close the stream and hear him immediately bounding down the stairs. </p><p>Clay swings into the room with a grin. "I'm gonna shower real quick then we can go get some dinner." He says. </p><p>I nod once, realizing I need to force him to buy some groceries and cook sometime. I loiter while he showers, scrolling my phone. After a little while Clay emerges in a soft looking red hoodie and grey sweat shorts, hair damp. At least we're similarly dressed down.</p><p>I hop to my feet and stride over, lifting my hand to touch his damp hair. </p><p>"You ready?" Clay asks, smiling at me as I find any excuse to touch him.</p><p>I nod once, and he snags his keys. We walk to his car together and load in. It's awkward for a minute as he pulls us out and starts to drive toward who knows where. Finally, I find my voice.</p><p>"That was an interesting conversation during the stream..." I start. </p><p>Clay immediately looks over with a small laugh. "Which one?" </p><p>I hum. "Girls who like Minecraft mods and pancakes who wear my shirts to sleep?" I say, quoting him.</p><p>Clay ducks his head with a blush. "Sorry. Was that okay to say on stream?" He asks.</p><p>I roll my eyes and nod. "Yeah. Of course it's fine. It's just funny." I say. </p><p>Clay hums. "Well just... let me know if you ever want me to watch what I say." He says. </p><p>I feel my face heat. It's an oddly affectionate gesture, the simple act of trust and respect. "Yessir." I say.</p><p>Clay glares for that, briefly tightening his grip on the wheel. He drops one hand to my thigh and squeezes. I stare at it, breath hitching, trying my best to act normal. </p><p>I look up, searching his face. His eyes dart over to look at me, before darting back to the road, and he awkwardly laughs. "What?" He asks.</p><p>I duck my head, embarrassed by just his voice. My heart thumps, like it wants to escape my chest. I steal another glance at him, grinning like an idiot.</p><p>I can't believe this is my new normal.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. distance (plot, fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"No, leave me to die." I groan, rolling in Clay's bed.</p><p>He groans too, and flops in next to me. We both ate... way too much at dinner. I barely got my ass up the stairs. I hold my stomach, beyond stuffed. </p><p>"Why'd I go for thirds? I'm so fucking stupid." I grit out. </p><p>Clay laughs, grabbing at me as I try to bat him off. </p><p>"Don't even touch me right now, I swear to God." I say, groaning even louder.</p><p>Still laughing, he grabs me anyways, reeling me into his chest and holding me there, despite the way I'm writhing. I keep my fight up for only another couple seconds before I sigh and let myself relax, cheek pressed to his chest. </p><p>We stay in silence, just holding each other, until Clay breaks it. "When do you leave?" He asks.</p><p>I sigh, I've been dreading it. The sucky thing about this trip, is that it was an impulse decision, so I still have shit scheduled. </p><p>"Probably as soon as I wake up tomorrow." I sigh, "I work at noon." I say, nearly whining. </p><p>Clay pats my back soothingly. "I guess we'll have to make the best of tonight, then." </p><p>I might just be hearing things, but there's something suggestive in his tone. I pull back from his chest, and squint at his face, seeing his mouth curved into a smug smile. </p><p>"I—" I stutter. "Clay I ate so much—" I start. I don't wanna do anything like this, let alone have sex. I feel like an idiot for not thinking about that. I could've been getting laid tonight.</p><p>"Yeah? We could burn the calories with some physical activity..." Clay says, lowering his voice and grabbing my hips.</p><p>I huff a small laugh, smiling and warming, reveling in how good it feels to know he wants me. "I can't." I say, pouting. "I want to, but I can't. I'd probably puke." I say.</p><p>Clay laughs and nods, touch going softer as he leans in and kisses my neck anyways. "It's fine. I know I'm repulsive." He says.</p><p>I roll my eyes, feeling bad. "Clay—" I start again.</p><p>"I'm just teasing. It's totally fine, we can do it some other time." Clay says, and I feel myself relax. He's a good man. "Not too full for kissin'?" He asks. </p><p>"Never." I say back, leaning in to catch his lips, fighting a smile.</p><p>We kiss each other slowly, a lot more exploratory and curious than we were able to last night, knowing it isn't going to go any further. His hands soothe up and down my body, following the curve of it, like he's trying to memorize it. </p><p>"Who knew—" He says, interrupting himself to kiss me again. "I had—" Another kiss. "This—" Kiss. "Right—" Kiss. "Under my nose." He says, and pulls back to search my face.</p><p>I feel myself heat, ducking my head in embarrassment. "Well I knew." I say, with a small laugh.</p><p>I eye him curiously. "You seriously didn't know?" I ask. </p><p>I wasn't... super obvious, but I wasn't exactly discreet either. I'd always do anything with him first in a heartbeat, and would always smile and laugh around him. But, everyone does. He's a quiet type of magnetic. </p><p>"If I knew you think we'd have only just started trying this out?" Clay says, rolling his eyes. "We would've cuffed in high school." </p><p>I furrow my brow.</p><p>"You were crushing back the entire time? You're lying." I say, blinking. There's no way we're both that dense.</p><p>"I don't— I wouldn't call it crush." Clay blushes, looking to the side. "I actively made sure I didn't get a crush on you, just because I didn't want to feel like a creep." </p><p>I eye him in disbelief. </p><p>"What? It was like one of those things where it's like haha funny but if you did I would. You've had those, right?" He says.</p><p>I blink at him. "Yeah I have. I call them crushes." I say.</p><p>Clay makes an exasperated noise. "Okay but like, if you didn't like me back wouldn't it be weird for me to have liked you that whole time?" He asks.</p><p>I raise my brows. "You mean the way I thought I did?" I ask. </p><p>I like him very much but... he's doing an amazing job of digging his grave.</p><p>"No. Not like that. It's different if it was me at you instead of you at me." He says, groaning.</p><p>"Why?" I ask, pulling back.</p><p>"Because— it— the power dynamic!" Clay nearly yells.</p><p>Oh, I guess that does make sense. Clay's... 6'3" and wiry... I'm soft and... definitely shorter than that. There's nothing I could force him to do that he didn't want. Still, hearing how frustrated he's getting, I want to push him.</p><p>"Wow..." I say, shaking my head and pulling back. "So you've thought about how you could over-power me?"</p><p>Clay makes a noise of desperation, holding onto my waist. "No that's not—" He starts again.</p><p>I fight off my smile and interrupt him. "How often do you think about it?" I ask voice low, "That I'm just a weak little woman and you're a big strong man." I say. I can't fight off my smile anymore.</p><p>Clay rolls his eyes. "Fuck off." He says, sighing in relief as he realizes I'm just messing with him. "You really had me thinking that— ugh." Still, he smiles. </p><p>"Thinking what? About pinning my weak, frail, fragile, feminine arms?" I say, continuing the bit with a grin.</p><p>Clay turns toward me, rolling his tongue in his mouth. "Yes." Is all he says, before he grabs me and flips me onto my back, pinning both of my arms above my head with one hand.</p><p>I exhale, breath hitching, still grinning. I didn't expect this reaction. His hand snakes up my thigh under my dress, and he stares down at me heatedly. I start to reconsider my sex embargo for only a moment, before his hand shifts a little higher and starts to dust across my skin. He knows I'm ticklish. </p><p>"Clay please no—" I start, gritting my teeth as his hand moves expertly, tickling my stomach. </p><p>I writhe under him, kicking, shouting, and laughing as he keeps me completely pinned, torturing me. </p><p>"Clay—"</p><p>"CLAY—"</p><p>"CLAY—" </p><p>He finally stops, cackling as he drops to my side. My sides hurt from shouting and laughing, and from fighting back. </p><p>"I'm never fucking you again after that." I say, pouting, but still roll over to bury my head in his chest. "In fact I take back everything I ever said. You're ugly and I hate you."</p><p>Clay laughs. "I'm sorry. Stop fussing." </p><p>I puff my lip out but listen, closing my eyes and relaxing in his arms. I quickly bliss out, and accidentally fall asleep before I even notice.</p><p>***</p><p>I wake up with a start, and see it's daylight out. </p><p>Shit. </p><p>I passed out and wasted my last night with Clay before I have to head back to school. I pull my phone out and check the time. It's 9 am again. I really have to get up and go. </p><p>I look up see Clay's sleeping on his stomach with his face mashed into his pillow. I lift a hand to his face and run my thumb along his cheekbone. He stirs slightly, and I find myself smiling like an idiot watching his expression scrunch as he wakes up. </p><p>"Wha—?" Clay murmurs out, half-awake, squinting at me.</p><p>"I gotta get going." I say.</p><p>Clay whines and grabs for me, dragging me in to settle on his chest. "No." He says, resolute.</p><p>"Clay—" I warn, despite how pleased I feel.</p><p>"Just for a little bit." He mumbles out, and I melt.</p><p>I sigh, wrapping my arms around him and settling into his chest. "Five minutes. That's it. Then I really have to go." I say, forfeiting. </p><p>We take the five minutes in mutual silence. When I peel myself out of Clay's arms this time, he goes lax, letting me. I busy myself quickly, rushing to collect my things and jam them into my bag. </p><p>I make it all the way downstairs with my stuff completely packed before Clay appears, holding his cat again. He disappears into the kitchen, and I hear the increasingly familiar shake of food. I manage to pull my shoes on before he walks back out. </p><p>I sling my bag over my shoulder and look up at him, sure I look like a disaster. "Well... I guess I'll see ya around." I say, dragging my feet, suddenly feeling awkward.</p><p>Clay nods, leaning against a wall. There's a tension that neither of us want to break, like a feeling of dread that this will all be forgotten the second I step out the door. I press my lips together for an uncomfortable smile and head for the door. I nearly make my way out before Clay stops me, his hand landing on the doorframe by my head.</p><p>"Wait—" He says.</p><p>I turn back toward him. He steps back and pulls his hoodie off over his head then, pushes it toward me. </p><p>"Take this with you. It's supposed to be cold this week." He says, offering it to me. </p><p>It's not. It's Florida in September, so I know it's not. </p><p>I duck my head, smiling and taking the hoodie before striding up to him. I lift to my toes and press a peck to the corner of his lips. I try to lean back but he catches me, pressing in for a real kiss. </p><p>I close my eyes and moan into Clay's mouth. He deepens the kiss immediately, hands wrapping around me to hold me into place as we stumble back until we connect with the door, slamming it shut. </p><p>I lift my hands to wrap around Clay's shoulders, arching desperately as he claims me with a kiss. I can't be bothered to care that we're both unshowered and gross. The moment makes me melt, and I'm as good as liquid in his hands. </p><p>We only stop the kiss to breathe for a moment, then dive back in, tongues sliding together as our bodies meet. His leg plants between my thighs and I squeeze it, moaning into his mouth. </p><p>Clay's hands quickly become demanding, one sliding up my dress to grope my ass as he keeps me pinned to the wall. I'm tempted to just give up and let what we both want to happen, happen, but I find my resolve. </p><p>I bite his lip and pull back, slapping my hands to his chest. "I have to go. We can't." I say.</p><p>Clay immediately relaxes, touches going loose. "I know." He says soft, defeated. </p><p>I whine, pushing in to give him one more good kiss before worming my way out of his arms. I steel myself, and smile at him. This time when he nods, the tension is different. Not a question of if we'll ever meet in this context again, but of when. </p><p>I duck my head and wave, finally leaving Clay's house, stomach doing flips.</p><p>***</p><p>The drive is long, boring, somewhat bittersweet. I blast music and shout-sing it the entire time. I manage to make it to my front door by 11:07 am, just enough time to pop a quick shower and grab a snack before I work. </p><p>As I walk in my roommate Ellie's head snaps to look at me from where she sits on the couch. "And where have you been?" She asks, grinning.</p><p>I smile back predatorily. "Sucking dick and cock." I say, striding past her.</p><p>Ellie nearly screams, following. "WHAT?"</p><p>I roll my eyes. "I'll tell you later, I have work at noon and I still have to shower and eat." </p><p>Ellie pouts at that. "Fine. But you're telling me the second you get home." She says, turning back to the living room.</p><p>The rest of my small amount of time at home is a blur, I shower, get dressed halfway decent, and manage to cram a sandwich into my mouth before I leave for work with my backpack and laptop.</p><p>The good thing about my job, is that I just sit at a desk checking out packages and replacement keys for kids who live in the dorms, among other things. The bad thing about it, is that it's incredibly boring. It's encouraged to do homework in your downtime, but a lot of people will just watch Netflix and play video games, especially late at night.</p><p>This shift is noon to eight pm, so I'll probably have to do homework until at least four when my supervisor goes home. Still, I'm thankful for the opportunity to do homework. I maybe perhaps blew it all off to have the weekend I just had. </p><p>I sit down and pull out my laptop, opening the essay due tonight that I really should've started before this moment. I let myself immediately get distracted by my texts.</p><p>Clay<br/>2 New messages</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'she can tell im sad :(' 11:21 am</p><p>The attachment is him in bed with Patches curled up asleep on his chest. </p><p>'god i wish that was me' 12:07 pm</p><p>His response is immediate. </p><p>'when can we hang out again? i'm free fri' 12:08 pm</p><p>'😏😏😏 thirsty ass...' 12:08 pm<br/>'i mean maybe this weeknd ill have yo see what my homework is like' 12:08 pm<br/>'weekend* to* why am i stupud' 12:08 pm</p><p>Ah. Shit.</p><p>'take your time' 12:08 pm</p><p>I roll my eyes.</p><p>'stupid* 😞...' 12:09 pm</p><p>'another adoring fan gets nervous around me' 12:09 pm<br/>'it's ok sweetie do you want my autograph on your titties or your toes?' 12:09 pm</p><p>I have to hold back a laugh. I look up a picture of a man's foot and send it to him.</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'toes daddy 🤩' 12:10 pm</p><p>'dont send toes im gonna nut' 12:10 pm<br/>'also don't call me daddy.' 12:10 pm</p><p>I smile to myself.</p><p>'why daddy?' 12:11 pm<br/>'daddy please i've been a good girl 😏' 12:11 pm</p><p>'Stop.' 12:11 pm</p><p>Ooh, a one worder. </p><p>'oh no did i make daddy angry... is he gonna punish me...' 12:12 pm</p><p>I know we're just joking around, but I can feel my face starting to heat. There's something magical about teasing him like this. I read his next message and nearly shout-laugh.</p><p>'Get on discord kitten... daddy's going to punish you.' 12:12 pm<br/>'*tips fedora* *starts dry humping you*'  12:12 pm</p><p>'STOP STOP STOP STOP ALFJSKFJAKJFKAJF' 12:12 pm</p><p>Well, that mood is gone. Still, I'll play along, I go into his contact and change his name from 'Clay' to 'Daddy Dream'. I screenshot the change and send it to him.</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>🤭 12:13 pm</p><p>I get nervous when I don't immediately get something back. After what feels like forever my phone buzzes. </p><p>I check.</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'i'm sorry i cant be him' 12:20 pm</p><p>It's a green screen TikTok of Clay standing in front of a screenshot of my text with the Heart On Ice audio. He turns and pretends to beat the shit out of the words. The photo switches and it's of his Minecraft skin, and he pretends to fist fight it.</p><p>I nearly yell it's so stupid. My entire face is flush with embarrassment and joy. Once I've collected myself I text back. </p><p>'i want to ride his bald head' 12:22 pm<br/>'im sorry ur a 3 and he's a 10 😜' 12:22 pm</p><p>As soon as I send the last text, someone walks up to the desk and I have to settle myself so I can actually do my job. By the time I wrap it up I've calmed down. I check his response.</p><p>'i cannot believe im being beat by his baldi's basics looking ass' 12:23 pm<br/>'whatever as long as you still let me hit ;)' 12:25 pm</p><p>I roll my eyes. </p><p>'we'll see' 12:31 pm<br/>'if ur a good boy you might get a crumb of coochie' 12:31 pm</p><p>As soon as I send it another person walks up and I realize package pick-up e-mails must've just sent out. It's about to get busy.</p><p>***</p><p>I get home and slam myself down on the couch next to Ellie. Clay and I texted a few more times, but nothing of significance beyond teasing. I was mostly pre-occupied with actually doing my work, until I realized I only had a little bit of time left to work on my paper. I ended up super busy, and my paper still isn't done, despite the fact that it's due at midnight. </p><p>I groan, and plop my head on Ellie's shoulder, deciding to watch whatever dumb cooking show she's watching this time with her. She lifts her hand and pats my head. </p><p>"I feel like given the chance? I'd punch Bobby Flay square in the fucking jaw." Ellie says.</p><p>I hum, nodding in agreement. "His face is punchable." I say, then snort a laugh.</p><p>Ellie sighs, relaxing against me. "So? I was promised details." She says, never looking away from the T.V.</p><p>I purse my lips. "You remember my friend Clay from spring break?" I ask.</p><p>She hums, "The tall guy? With the game obsession?" She asks.</p><p>I nod, smiling. "Yeah that one." </p><p>I love Ellie dearly, but she's very stereotypically ignorant of all things video games. Though, it comes at the distinct advantage that she's never even heard of Dream Team, and has barely heard of Minecraft. The Yin to my Yang. </p><p>She eyes me. "Were you not already fucking him?" </p><p>I nearly shout. "No— why— did you think that I was?" </p><p>Ellie raises her brows and turns back to the screen. "I mean it seemed pretty obvious to me that you were both into each other." She hm's and her mouth drops open, "That's the wrong spice you absolute baboon!" She shouts at the T.V.</p><p>I duck my head, feeling embarrassed. Maybe Clay and I are just stupid.</p><p>Ellie continues before I can think of something to say to defend myself. "So what? You're dating him now?" </p><p>I sigh. "Nope..." I say popping the 'p'. "Just fucking. And talking."</p><p>"Oh?" Ellie says, turning her attention fully to me. "Is that what you want?" She asks.</p><p>I think for a moment. I didn't really... consider what I wanted. "I mean... no. I think I want to date him, but, he has a lot on his plate right now, so I understand why he wants to feel things out first." I say, hesitant.</p><p>"Isn't this the guy you've known since y'all were kids?" Ellie asks, raising her brows. </p><p>I nod. </p><p>"I think that's been plenty of time feeling things out, then." She says.</p><p>I blink, at a loss for words because I know she's right. Still, I need to defend something so I don't just feel like an idiot. </p><p>"Well... I mean... he just got out of a relationship and then there's the distance on top of that..." I say, floundering. </p><p>Ellie fixes me with a piercing look. "I dunno." I say, defeated.</p><p>Suddenly she goes soft, pulling me into a hug. "If you're okay with how things currently are, just stick it out then. Especially if you think you have a good shot at being happy, I'll support you." She says.</p><p>I melt at the reassurance. She's already helped a lot with letting me see more clearly what I want out of this. </p><p>"But... if he gets annoying... let me know. I'll punch him in the face." She says, and I snort out a laugh, mood lightening.  </p><p>"Yeah, yeah." I say batting her off.</p><p>I kick to my feet, grabbing my bag. "Try not to scream at the show too much, I have a paper to write." I say.</p><p>"Nyeh, I have a paper to write, nyeh nyeh nyeh." Ellie says, mocking me, but turns the volume down.</p><p>I roll my eyes and walk to my room, chewing my thumb as I sit down at my desktop and get ready to work on my paper. I decide I'll check my phone just one more time before I focus. I see I missed some texts from awhile ago.</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>3 New Messages</p><p>'im literally so stupid i just remembered' 7:23 pm<br/>'i cant do this weekend i have MC championships shit going on' 7:24 pm<br/>'how about the weekend after?' 7:24 pm</p><p>I feel disappointment settle in my chest. See, the distance is a valid reason that we have to be careful navigating this.</p><p>'i'm not sure but i'll try my best to be free' 8:37 pm<br/>'also good luck!! 😘' 8:37 pm</p><p>I close my phone and ignore the immediate buzz. I have 3 pages to write and 3 hours to do it. It's time to focus, despite how much I want not to.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. put ur dick on the the phone (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's finally Saturday. This week has been absolute dog shit. I've barely had time to text Clay between my immense amount of homework and his Minecraft stuff. Finally, now that it's just a little bit before he goes live, we have time to text each other. </p><p>And maybe flirt.</p><p>Clay seems like he needs it. I can tell that he's a bit nervous. I just sent off my latest masterpiece of a text. It's a bit cruel, but neither of us is great at playing nice.</p><p>'can't wait to see my very handsome man get second place 🤩' 2:27 pm</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>1 New Message</p><p>'oh blow me' 2:27 pm</p><p>I bite my lip, grinning at my phone like an idiot.</p><p>'sure' 2:27 pm<br/>'only if you win 😘😳😏' 2:27 pm</p><p>'Im gonna call you in a sec' 2:28 pm</p><p>I look at my phone in surprise for only a moment before the FaceTime pops up. I answer quickly, before I can even think to wonder what I look like, instinct from years of just friendship.</p><p>"What?" I ask, as soon as I see him. "Why'd you call?"</p><p>Clay smiles. "Hi to you too." He sighs and stretches, grinning at his phone. "I wanted to go through your clothes together so I can help you pick an outfit."</p><p>I furrow my brow. "For what?" I ask.</p><p>"For tonight, when I win and take my victory lap inside of you." He says, fighting a laugh, looking particularly proud.</p><p>I roll my eyes. I could let the joke die, spend some time having a genuine conversation, but now I need to mess with him back. </p><p>"Sure!" I chirp, and rock to my feet, headed for my dresser. </p><p>I prop my phone up and open my top drawer. I dig my hand into the right side and grab a completely sheer, other than lace accents, thong. </p><p>"How's this?" I ask, spreading it out to hold it in front of the camera.</p><p>Clay looks absolutely shocked, staring at me with his mouth ajar. "I— y-you—" He swallows. "Can I see it on? Before I make my decision." He says, trying to reclaim his cool.</p><p>I hum for a moment. "Of course..." I side-eye my phone. He looks immediately excited, perking up.</p><p>"When you win." I say, smiling.</p><p>Clay groans, letting his head fall back. "I should've seen that one coming." </p><p>I laugh. "You really should have." I say, grabbing my phone and flopping back into bed.</p><p>Clay returns the laugh. "I never— I just never even thought about the fact that you owned stuff like that. You're always dressed so—" </p><p>"Be careful with your next words." I warn, lifting my brows.</p><p>He hesitates. "—So comfortably." </p><p>I squint my eyes, but accept it. "I mean, that's a lot of my clothes, especially around people I know well." I purse my lips. "But I'm multifaceted, I can dress seductively." </p><p>"I'll believe it when I see it." Clay says, raising his brows while I furrow mine, protesting immediately.</p><p>"Fuck do you mean—" I start, somewhat annoyed.</p><p>Clay laughs a small amount. "I just— I can only see you in like... shorts and a T-shirt. I dunno." He says.</p><p>I roll my eyes, frustrated. "Okay..." I say, pouting. He's being a type of unintentionally mean that I don't like.</p><p>"C'mon, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it badly." He says.</p><p>I hmpf, though my anger settles. I decide my best option will be to just switch the topic. </p><p>"I can't wait to see you next weekend." I say, letting myself grin. "Never thought I'd see the day I'd be this excited just to visit you." </p><p>Clay huffs a small laugh, letting me make the change. "Yeah. Sorry about this weekend. It's so funny to me that I'm not getting laid because of Minecraft." </p><p>"Shouldn't be a new feeling." I say scrunching my nose.</p><p>"Shut up." He chastises, rolling his eyes. </p><p>We fall into a comfortable rhythm, just chatting and teasing each other. Though as the time ticks on, we get back to flirting. </p><p>"Oh one second, I have to make my grocery list." Clay says, then goes to type. </p><p>"Alright... one... condoms." He turns back to me. "I'm done with my grocery list." He says, grinning.</p><p>"What do you think you'll need those for?" I ask, tilting my head.</p><p>"For protection during sex with this chick, you probably don't know her." He says, looking smug.</p><p> "Oh, she has an STD? That's so sad." I say, fake pouting.</p><p>Clay grimaces. "No— what. For protection against children." </p><p>I smile to myself. "Oh. Have fun with her then." I say, shrugging. I wait until he laughs in return before I come back in with a different energy.</p><p>"But if you were sleeping with me..." I start, lowering my voice and batting my eyes, watching the way he immediately pauses. "You wouldn't need condoms."</p><p>Clay's breath hitches and I tilt my head. "I have the implant. So you could hit it raw." I say, then arch, making sure my chest just slightly bounces with the movement.</p><p>There's a moment of silence where Clay just stares at me heatedly, and I blink back. I see Clay swallow once more, then his eyes flick.</p><p>"I cannot fucking believe I actually have to say this." Clay starts, hesitating. "I've gotta hang up to go play Minecraft, now." He says. I immediately burst into laughter. </p><p>"Okay!" I say, fighting my laughter. "I'll probably be watching! I have some homework but..." I taper off. "I hope you win." I say, voice now soft and genuine.</p><p>Clay nods, smiling. "I do too."</p><p>There's a moment of silence, before he comes back in swinging, with another joke. At least I assume, joke. "So you'll be over at 8pm for my victory lap. We didn't get to pick an outfit so maybe put on something white and green like my Minecraft skin." He says, then winks. "You like that? You like when I talk Minecraft in bed, baby?" </p><p>I huff a laugh. "You're so stupid..." I realize I want a little more attention before he goes. "I could go put something on and show you so you can approve..." I say.</p><p>Clay opens his mouth, looking excited, but pauses. "I— Shit. I really have to go. Bye." He says, then hangs up before I can get a word in edgewise. </p><p>I flinch, feeling somewhat hurt and rejected, though I understand. I immediately get a notification that he's streaming. I go to my computer and pop my headphones on, opening it, and hear Clay already joking around. </p><p>I grin, knowing just seconds ago he was on call with me, flirting. I find myself standing up without really thinking. I'm about to make a bad decision. I wander toward my dresser. </p><p>We were just joking about the whole sex thing, especially since I'd immediately have to come back home tonight after, which is just kind of... impossible. I picked up an extra shift for tomorrow, so now I work at 8 am on top of my regular shift that lasts till 8 pm. </p><p>Still, maybe we'll have some time to fuck around on camera once he's done, win or lose. Plus, I want to tease him for leaving me the way he did. On top of that... I have a point to prove. If he can't envision me in something seductive, I'll just have to show it to him and prove him wrong.</p><p>I open my drawer, fingers moving quick, digging for what I know is in there. I don't have anything green, but I do have an all-white set. I'm embarrassed of the amount of lingerie I own. I bought it all when I was bored over quarantine and briefly developed an online shopping addiction. </p><p>I've never let anyone see it, let alone done anything in it. But now, I can't stopping thinking about how good it would feel to have Clay's hands on me, brushing over top of the fabric.</p><p>I shiver, feeling my face heat as I pull out the set and lay it on my bed. I quickly strip and redress in the lingerie. I wander to the bathroom, briefly thankful that Ellie goes out doing God knows what every weekend, and look at myself in the mirror.</p><p>The set has 5 pieces.</p><p>First, a mostly sheer, frilly bralette top with a small silk bow. </p><p>Second, a puffed out garter belt that rests on the waist and falls to the edge of my hip.</p><p>Third a mostly opaque panty with a frilly waistband. </p><p>Forth, completely sheer thigh highs, except for the wide frill and silk bows at the top.</p><p>And the pièce de résistance, and the most embarrassing part by far, a puffy white cloth choker with a long silk strip hanging off like a leash. </p><p>I spin, considering myself, and come to the conclusion that it looks good, despite a moment of self-consciousness at how little it leaves to the imagination. Whatever, Clay's seen me totally naked already. </p><p>I fluff my hair before heading back to my room. I lay down in my bed, and try to take a photo, before deciding I want him to work for it. I put on the hoodie he sent home with me, thankful for it's size as it falls down to my thighs and put the hood up. I pose in front of my full body mirror on my door and take the shot. </p><p>I evaluate the picture before I send it off. It's of my mouth down. It shows me in the hoodie, holding it rucked up on one side up to the garter belt. It's the perfect amount of tease. </p><p>I pop my headphones back on and settle into my chair, watching his stream on my computer. I smile, and send the picture, assuming he'll probably just check it when he's done.</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'watching the stream in this' 3:04 pm<br/>'minecraft boy 🙄🙄' 3:04 pm</p><p>My breath hitches as the messages are immediately read and Clay's voice stutters to a stop in my headphones. I look up at the stream with my brow furrowed to see his character standing still. </p><p>I hear him immediately get mocked and teased for stuttering and my face heats. I briefly wonder if I'm the reason, when I look back down and see the typing bubble. </p><p>'shownthte redt rn' 3:04 pm<br/>'show therest rn' 3:04 pm<br/>'shownthe rest rn' 3:04 pm<br/>'fuck' 3:04 pm<br/>'show the rest rn' 3:05 pm</p><p>I laugh as I read each text. I swallow around my tongue nervously, hearing him start talking in my ear again to defend his stutter. </p><p>'all the blood leave your head or something jeeze 🥱' 3:05 pm</p><p>'show' 3:05 pm</p><p>I shift nervously. His speaking hasn't stuttered at all, though he is a little more quiet.</p><p>'right now? you sure...?' 3:06 pm</p><p>'yeah rn' 3:06 pm</p><p>I bite my lip, nervously considering. I feel bad, feeling like I'm distracting him, when another text rolls in.</p><p>'pls' 3:07 pm</p><p>Whatever, stuff doesn't really start for another couple minutes, anyways. I swing out of bed and shed the headphones. I briefly consider taking the whole hoodie off, but think better of it, realizing I'm still too embarrassed to show the choker.</p><p>I lift the hoodie until its above my chest, then position myself, tilt my head back, and take the shot before I can over-think it. I let myself relax, dropping the hoodie back down, and review the photo. </p><p>I shift nervously when I see it. It's definitely... suggestive. Still, I feel some doubt that he's going to like it as much as I need him to. I sit back down and put my headphones back on.</p><p>I draw my legs to my chest inside of the hoodie and nervously send the picture, chewing my thumb. </p><p>1 Attachment 3:09 pm</p><p>I want to write something to send with it, but chicken out. I hear Clay very casually go quiet this time, then see the text open. </p><p>I see the typing bubble, stop and start and stop and start. I squirm in my seat, he's been quiet for some time, long enough people notice. </p><p>"Why is Dream so quiet?" Someone asks.</p><p>Someone else laughs and replies. "It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for."</p><p>I hear the ping of incoming texts, then immediately hear Clay speak again. "You don't hear anything and then you're dead." Clay says with a cackle, and goes back to jumping around, acting normal.</p><p>Someone shouts, and suddenly its all jokes. I swallow nervously, fingers itching to check the text. </p><p>I steel myself, and check it.</p><p>'literally speechless' 3:11 pm<br/>'what i gotta do to get that hoodie all the way off?' 3:11 pm</p><p>I feel my face heat and chew my nail more, pleased. Clay reacted even better than expected. </p><p>'1st place this round and ill think about it' 3:12 pm</p><p>He immediately opens it, and leaves it on read. I laugh, curling up in my chair, thoroughly entertained as the games start. I watch him intently. </p><p>He's focused.</p><p>And he's doing it.</p><p>And he's first place.</p><p>Ah... shit. </p><p>It only takes a couple a seconds of him being done before I get the text. </p><p>'so where's the pic?' 3:20 pm</p><p>'i said i'll THINK about it' 3:20 pm</p><p>Still, I'm already standing and stripping. I move the short distance to my bed and lay down. I lift my phone and angle my body, arching my back. I hesitate for a moment, then grab the silk leash, delicately holding it. I manage to get a shot that shows from my jaw down most of my thigh, as well as the length of the silk tie. </p><p>I heat as I send it, still laying in bed with my headphones on, craning my head just right to still watch the stream. Clay's text back is absurdly quick.</p><p>1 Attachment 3:22 pm</p><p>"8 pm." 3:22 pm</p><p>I roll my eyes at that.</p><p>'cryptic' 3:23 pm</p><p>I respond back, and see it open, but don't get another response. I feel a little self-conscious that I don't get another reply, and end up back in his hoodie.</p><p>Clay keeps performing exceptionally well, essentially carrying the game. Still, my heart rate increases, thumping. I smile when his team gets the dub and immediately text. </p><p>'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' 5:13 pm<br/>'gg ez!!!!!!!!!' 5:13 pm</p><p>I grin when I see the texts get read, and the typing bubble briefly comes up. Though it immediately goes away. I frown, listening to him celebrate in my headphones, feeling a little stupid and disappointed. I end up closing the stream early, shaking a weird feeling. I'll just busy myself with something else.</p><p>I end up stress baking.</p><p>This combined pressure from school and trying to navigate this whatever with Clay is stressing me out from both sides. </p><p>I end up flopped on my couch, hair pulled out of my face, still in the hoodie and lingerie, bread, cake, and brownies all baking. I made the executive decision to show Ellie my get-up when she gets home, so I'm still in it.</p><p>I check my phone for the time. 7:33 pm. Whenever it is that she does get home. It could be seriously late. </p><p>I curl up on the couch, just scrolling social media while my baked goods timer ticks away. I timed them perfectly, putting them in at just the right time so they can all come out simultaneously. Or, close to. </p><p>I hear a knock on the door and shoot up. I wonder briefly if Ellie left her keys here before she left and walk over to swing the door open without thinking. </p><p>I freeze when I see Clay standing there. I just blink up at him. </p><p>He grins. "Sorry. I'm a little early." He says. </p><p>I flounder for a moment. "What? Why are you— Clay—" I start, breathless.</p><p>Clay relaxes in the doorway, looking at me with a considering look. "Those pictures were very interesting." He says, leaning in toward me.</p><p>I freeze again, feeling my face heat. My hands fall to my lap, covering what's already covered by the hoodie.</p><p>Clay looks at me a moment longer. "So are you going to invite me in?" He asks. </p><p>I finally find my words for that. "What, like you're some kind of vampire?" I say, huffing and rolling my eyes. "Invite me in so I can rawdog you. I'm the sexpire— the CUMpire—" I say, tapering off as I realize I'm rambling nervously. </p><p>Clay lifts his brows, staring at me expectantly. I take a step back and beckon him in with a jerk of my head. He follows me in, grinning immediately, and I feel my stomach swoop.</p><p>He gently closes the door behind him, staring me down. I shift nervously, feeling my entire body tense.</p><p>"So..." I start, shifting from foot to foot. "I don't—" Clay interrupts. </p><p>"Take the hoodie off." He says, a demand.</p><p>I shy away, stupidly unable to look up at him. I'm embarrassed enough that I want to be rude to him just to get some power back. I seriously wasn't expecting him here tonight, but still, I'm beyond excited that he is. I can't believe I never considered the fact that he could just come up here instead of me going down to visit him. </p><p>I steel myself, and tilt my chin back, looking at him dead on. </p><p>"Come take it off yourself." I say, curling into a coy smile.</p><p>Clay's face immediately splits into a grin and he takes a predatory step forward, reaching for me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. daddy chill (smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I tense as Clay's hands land on me, one on my thigh, already sliding up the hoodie, and one on my waist, holding me in place over the fabric. His touch is alarmingly gentle, slow. He reels me in toward him, pressing our bodies flush, even as we take a step back, together. His hand explores under the hoodie, fingers delicately tracing the lines of frill where they press to my skin. It feels better than I imagined.</p>
<p>Clay leans in, exhaling softly against my mouth before catching my lips and pressing a kiss there. I want to shy away, whine high in my throat as he stays persistent, guiding me back further and further.</p>
<p>He pulls back from the kiss, moving down until his lips brush my jaw. "You're so quiet now..." He says, and I feel myself start melting. </p>
<p>I blink, swallowing around my tongue, still at a loss for words. "Where'd all that talk from earlier go, baby?" He says, voice low, then drags his lips up my neck in a way that leaves me breathless.</p>
<p>Finally his second hand shifts to hold my waist under the hoodie. The article in question is now rucked up to the garter belt as we impossibly slowly shift toward my room.</p>
<p>"I— I don't—" I manage to stutter out before he presses a kiss to my neck, swiping out his tongue as well. </p>
<p>I moan immediately, before I can stop it, body shivering in his arms. I'm as good as putty with him.</p>
<p>Clay keeps kissing me, persistently enough that I don't have a moment to catch my breath, heart threatening to pound out of my chest. I try to level my head and find my voice. </p>
<p>"I—" I try to start, again, cut off with a moan as Clay's roaming hand immediately becomes demanding under the hoodie, groping at my ass. I lift my hands to his shoulders and hold there to steady myself. "I thought you were gonna take it off—" I say, fighting a moan.</p>
<p>A laugh rumbles low in Clay's chest as we take another step back and his fingers play with the waistband of my panties under the hoodie. </p>
<p>"No." He says, giving me a look that melts me. "After that attitude, I'm taking my time with you." He says, voice low. </p>
<p>It sends a full body shiver through me and I nod. "Yessir." I manage to say, breathless, before I can really think about it. </p>
<p>Clay hm's, hands tensing in their position on my body. He catches my lips in another kiss, immediately pushing his tongue into my mouth, taking control. His hand moves all the way up to my neck under the hoodie, fingers pressing to the choker feather-light as he fucks my mouth with his tongue.  </p>
<p>I whimper, feeling my body arch desperately into his touch. My eyes fall shut, I just need him to— </p>
<p>My alarm for my baked goods blares, and Clay pulls back, laughing. "Nice timing." He says.</p>
<p>I crumble in his arms, head falling forward into his chest. I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling stupid and catching my breath.</p>
<p>"I have to— I was baking." I say, thumbing over my shoulder. Clay's hands drop out from under my hoodie and he nods.</p>
<p>I take that as permission enough and peel myself away from him, awkwardly shuffling off to the kitchen. I'm surprised that Clay follows, hovering close behind. I try to move quickly, turning the oven off and pulling everything out, setting it aside to cool.</p>
<p>As I toothpick check everything, I feel a laugh and a presence behind me, only moments before Clay plasters himself to my back and hooks his head over mine, his arms wrapping around my waist.</p>
<p>"You having a bake sale or something? Christ." He says, wheezing out a laugh.</p>
<p>I roll my eyes, slapping at his arm. "I was stress baking." I say, dropping what I was using to lean back into his chest. Everything is baked perfectly. Now I'm ready to go back to where we were. </p>
<p>"Ah right. What's stressing you?" Clay asks. I briefly consider answering truthfully. You. Idiot. But decide I'd rather leave a serious talk for later. I've got more... important things on my mind.</p>
<p>I roll my hips, grinding back into his lap and tilt my head into his chest until I can look up at him. "Lack of vitamin D." I say. </p>
<p>Clay immediately laughs, though his hands tighten on my waist and he lifts me. I yelp, kicking, and he keeps laughing, carrying me toward my room like a claimed prize.</p>
<p>I expect to thrown into bed, instead, Clay drops me to my feet just outside my door and walks into my room ahead of me, immediately kicking his shoes off and sitting on the edge of my bed. I hesitate before stepping in, hovering nervously near the doorway.</p>
<p>Clay tilts his head back, considering me appraisingly. "Close the door. Lock it. Then come here." He says, patting his lap and smiling up at me.</p>
<p>I heat at his words and nod, following his first two instructions, then nervously the third. I approach, and Clay grabs me the second I'm within touching distance. He pulls me in between his legs, his hands immediately sliding under the hoodie. </p>
<p>My hands shoot out to his shoulders to steady myself as he lifts the hoodie slowly, following the line of skin as he exposes it with his mouth. I moan, high and breathy, tensing my hands as I feel his tongue drag along my hip up to my stomach.</p>
<p>Clay looks up at me for a moment, and I stare back, then suddenly he's pulling the hoodie out and pushing his head inside. I tense my hands on his shoulders, immediately embarrassed as he grabs my ass with both hands and presses a kiss to my breast. </p>
<p>I whine. "Just take it off—" I start. </p>
<p>I feel Clay smile against my skin, and barely have time to brace myself, wrapping both arms around his head as he grabs and lifts me until I'm straddling his lap. </p>
<p>"Patience." He chastises, muffled from inside of the hoodie.</p>
<p>I'm completely flush with embarrassment, holding on for the ride as his hands shift again. One moves up to slide under my bra, groping my breast, and the other wraps around my waist, holding me in place. He mouths at my other nipple over the fabric of my lingerie.</p>
<p>I close my eyes, losing myself in the sensation as Clay suddenly feels like he's everywhere on me all at once, and I can't even see it. I moan, arching toward his mouth and grinding down into his lap. My entire body shivers as I make contact and feel that he's already half-hard under me. I grind down impatiently.</p>
<p>Clay grunts, then nips at my skin in response before finally pushing the bra up. My breath hitches as I feel him exhale against my breast, hovering next to it. I hate that I can't— fuck. </p>
<p>I moan as Clay latches on to my nipple, sucking hard. My hands tense around his head and I lift to my knees, instinctively trying to press my chest closer to the stimulation. My lips part and stay open, small noises I can't control escaping from low in my throat as he teases me with his tongue. </p>
<p>I want to see it.</p>
<p>I pout, whining again. "Please take it off—" </p>
<p>Clay sighs from inside the hoodie, pulling back and pressing a parting kiss to my chest, shifting the bra back into place. His hands hesitate for a moment, then he grabs the hem of the hoodie and tugs, pulling it up and off of me. </p>
<p>Once it's off I can finally see him, seeing that his face is flushed red. I nearly melt, hooking my hands into his hair to tug and force him to tilt his head just right so I can kiss him. Clay moans into it, both hands landing on my waist as we grind against each other and slide our tongues together. </p>
<p>Before I can react again his hands tighten and we lift off the bed. We simultaneously moan into each other's mouths as we connect, hard. It only lasts a second before Clay tilts us and we land on the mattress together with me on my back.</p>
<p>I exhale as I land, shifting to get comfortable and make room for Clay. He follows desperately, mouth demanding. He rolls his hips between my legs and I keen, arching to meet the movement. </p>
<p>Clay swears under his breath and suddenly sits back on his heels. He palms himself over his sweats, staring down at me, panting, looking completely gone. I tilt my head back, exposing my throat, looking up at him through my lashes. </p>
<p>We stay like that, just catching our breath, away from the intensity of the moment. I swallow around my nerves and lift my hands to my stomach, dragging along my skin, lifting the garter belt, following the waistband of my panties.</p>
<p>Clay's eyes follow the movement until he drops both hands to grab me, still kneeling between my legs.</p>
<p>"Fucking— fuck." Clay bites out, lifting one hand to push it under my bra and grope my breast again.</p>
<p>"It's a good thing we still won. Because I was pretty distracted. I woulda felt bad." He says, then rucks my bra up my chest, exposing both breasts. </p>
<p>I arch under him, pushing my chest into his hands. He responds with a rougher grope, pinching my nipple. I whine, thighs clenching. It just barely hurts in the best way.</p>
<p>I tilt my head, swiping my tongue over my lip, about to make a bad choice. "I—" I hesitate. "Sorry, daddy." I say, watching his face. Though, I already know it's more than fine. I feel his cock jump where it's pressed to my thigh. </p>
<p>Clay flounders for a second, mouth slightly ajar as his hands suddenly stop teasing me and he stares me down. He lifts one hand to rub his throat, and starts swearing.</p>
<p>I laugh under him, lifting one hand to curl it around the wrist of his hand still on my chest. I lift my hips to connect with his lap, and grind hard. He moans, finally seeming to collect himself, and leans back in. </p>
<p>Clay's hand curls around my jaw, keeping my head head in place, tilted back, as he meets me for an aggressive kiss, forcing his tongue into my mouth as I mewl under him, bucking my hips. His other hand drops between us, landing between my legs and grinding down hard. I gasp into the kiss and try to pull back so I can breathe, but he keeps me pinned in place, tongue-fucking my mouth.</p>
<p>I whine into the kiss as he grinds again and lift a hand to tap out on his shoulder. Clay finally pulls out of the kiss, biting my lip as he goes. Both of his hands retreat to rest on my thighs as he goes back to kneeling between my legs. </p>
<p>I shy under Clay, stomach clenching as I catch my breath. He drags his eyes down my body, humming in appreciation. "You look so fucking good under me like this." He says, low and soft. </p>
<p>I feel my face heat, feelings of desire nearly overwhelming. "But..." He starts, leaning in closer as I search his face.</p>
<p>"I bet..." Clay continues, then grabs for the strip of fabric hanging from the choker and runs it through his hand. "This outfit could be even better." He says.</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" I ask, breathless, arching under him.</p>
<p>He splits into a grin. "Glad you asked." He says, tugging the hanging fabric until my choker pulls tight. "Sit up." He demands.</p>
<p>I bite my lip and listen. His hands move quick, pulling the bra over my head, then guiding me to lay back down. He stares at my chest for a moment before his eyes flick down. </p>
<p>"Clay—" I start, a bit desperate for physical affection.</p>
<p>He ignores me, hands dragging along my skin until he lands at my garter belt. He unclips it from the thigh-highs then pulls it down my hips. His fingers hook into my panties as well, and he pulls both off in one smooth motion.</p>
<p>I whine, looking up to see Clay staring down at me, unabashedly, fucking me with his eyes. "Goddamn. I—" He reaches up, hesitating for a moment before he lands his hand on my stomach.</p>
<p>"I was right. This is better." He says, slowly dragging his hand up until he can slip it under the collar and hold my neck. I moan, eyes threatening to flutter shut, heart pounding in my throat. </p>
<p>I shift restlessly underneath of him, now in just thigh-highs and this stupid choker, feeling my face flush with embarrassment. I try to press my thighs together but his hands immediately drop, grabbing my thighs and holding them open with me on display.</p>
<p>"Clay—" I moan out, breathless. </p>
<p>"Let me see. I'm trying to commit this to memory." He says, voice low, one hand drifting up my thigh. </p>
<p>I manage to open my eyes again, blinking up at him. I tilt my chin back, defiant. "Take a fucking picture, then." </p>
<p>Clay's head shoots up, eyes locking to my face with a persistent heat. "You—" He searches my face nervously. "Can I?" He asks.</p>
<p>I nod. I don't see... why not. I trust him with it. Clay immediately leans back, desperately groping at his pockets until he finds his phone and leans back with it in hand.</p>
<p>"Lift your—" He tapers off, swallowing and unlocking his phone. "Lift—" He tries again, stopping when I roll my eyes and lift my knees to display myself before he can finish asking.</p>
<p>"Yeah." He says, with a soft exhale.</p>
<p>I look up at Clay and drift my hands down to grab the leash coming off the choker and guide it into the hand he has planted on my thigh. He grabs it, threading it between his fingers and holding tight. Still not done, I tug at his hand, guiding it higher on my body. His eyes follow the movement, burning with a question until I get it next to my face and nuzzle into his palm.</p>
<p>Clay stares down at me, mouth hanging open. I bat my lashes at him, then drag my tongue along the length of his knuckles. I watch his thoughts stutter to a stop, phone suddenly forgotten as he watches my tongue. </p>
<p>"Baby—" He grits out. "I can't fucking wait to—" I interrupt him. </p>
<p>"Daddy, chill. Don't forget your picture." I say, small smile curling my lips.</p>
<p>Clay's brain finally seems to catch up. He rolls his eyes at my words and angles his phone, eyes darting between me and it, tapping a few times. I assume he's taking many, and decide to put on a show. </p>
<p>I use my hands to unfurl his clenched fist, and take his middle and ring finger into my mouth, tightly wrapping my lips around them and staring up at him. He makes a strangled noise. I hear him tap a few more times before he drops the phone next to my head, and pulls both of his hands back to himself. We stare at each other, all heat. </p>
<p>I let out a soft laugh, searching his face, and Clay cracks into a wild grin, spurring into motion. He quickly rips his shirt over his head and comes back down on me, hard, immediately kissing me and pushing his tongue into my mouth.</p>
<p>I gasp into the kiss as his hips roll again, feeling how hard he is, knowing I'm probably embarrassingly wet. The sensation only lasts for a moment before he moves his hand between us, two fingers dragging through my slick. </p>
<p>I briefly think about the fact that I've had nothing of Clay aside from his tongue inside of me before, then feel both of his fingers push in. My body immediately bucks as I throw my head back and break the kiss to moan, guttural. I roll my hips, already trying to ride his fingers. </p>
<p>It's such a different kind of stretch to feel inside, especially from someone with such big hands. He curls his fingers and the air knocks out of me with a desperate moan. </p>
<p>"You like that?" He asks, repeating the motion. </p>
<p>I moan again, immediately, knowing I'm making an absurd face. What a stupid question. "What do you think I— ah—" I'm interrupted with another loud moan as he curls his fingers again, harder. </p>
<p>I find the wherewithal to glare up at Clay, finding him smirking down at me, looking smug. I narrow my eyes at him. "You look so proud of— ah— of yourself." I manage to say even as he continues curling his fingers.</p>
<p>Clay raises his brows and shifts his hand until his thumb circles my clit in tandem. I whimper, between panted moans. He leans in close, until we share breath. </p>
<p>"You're so mouthy." He mumbles out, then pushes in for a kiss, immediately curling his fingers inside me harder and faster, expertly flicking my clit. </p>
<p>My hands shoot up to hook into his hair, pulling. He swallows all of my moans in the kiss, essentially fucking me with his fingers. I feel embarrassed that there's already a burn growing in my stomach, demanding to crest over. </p>
<p>I squeeze my eyes shut tight and arch my hips, hands pulling his hair tight. He keeps the pressure, and it only takes a few more seconds before I'm tipped over the edge, shuddering into a climax. </p>
<p>I kick out, everything arching and writhing under Clay as he keeps moving inside of me, dragging my orgasm out as I whine into his mouth. Overstimulated, thighs shaking, I find the strength to tug his hair, hard, parting the kiss.</p>
<p>"Please, Clay—" I barely manage to whimper out before he surges forward and locks me back into a kiss. Though, his hand relents, pulling out of me and landing on my hip.</p>
<p>The kiss turns slow, passionate, as his hand grips on my hip hard enough to bruise and he shifts to press his hard cock back between my legs. I turn into a puddle under him, trying to present, inviting him to fuck me.</p>
<p>Clay finally parts the kiss with a nip to my lip and I go lax under him, melting into the mattress. He looks down at me with a pleased smile and sits back on his heels. </p>
<p>"You actually got my sweatpants wet." He says with a laugh, brushing his hands over his lap and standing up to peel them off.</p>
<p>I'm too cum-lax to shy away from that, and nod, loose. "You should have taken them off earlier, then." I say, stretching on the mattress, watching his face, warmth and affection blooming in my chest. </p>
<p>Clay turns, finally nude, and approaches the side of my bed. I lift and part my legs as though on instinct, watching his eyes immediately drop. He gets one knee on the mattress, hand already on my thigh before he turns to search my face, brow furrowed. </p>
<p>"Was the—" He tapers off, looking awkward.</p>
<p>I tilt my head, confused. "What?" </p>
<p>"Were you serious earlier? Do I need a condom?" He asks.</p>
<p>I tuck my chin to my chest and laugh. "Do you have an STD?" I ask.</p>
<p>Clay grimaces again, shaking his head. "No— why would I—" </p>
<p>I interrupt. "Then no. You don't." I say, darting my tongue across bottom lip. </p>
<p>He drags in a stuttered breath, staring at me for a moment before curling his hand under my knee and guiding my legs open further. </p>
<p>I find myself swallowing nervously, staring at his cock. "Can you go slow? It's been a minute..." I say, eyeing the length. </p>
<p>Clay laughs, dipping his head to kiss my inner thigh at my knee. "Yeah. Of course." </p>
<p>He finally fully climbs into bed, kneeling between my legs. He pushes on my leg with one hand, holding the base of his cock with the other. He slots it against me just to grind, exhaling as he slides against my slick, not entering yet. </p>
<p>I moan, soft and low as he grinds against everything sensitive. I look at the bliss on his face and melt. The feeling makes my stomach flutter as I realize he's about to literally fuck me and the only thing I can think about is how much I want him to kiss me.</p>
<p>How much I need him to kiss me.</p>
<p>I lift my hands to Clay's shoulders and tug him down. He huffs a small laugh before listening, and presses in for an alarmingly gentle kiss. I let my eyes flutter shut again, moaning into his mouth as our hips move glacially slow, tongues dragging against each other.</p>
<p>Clay is the one that finally breaks the kiss and I sigh, letting my eyes open up to look at him. I feel crazy seeing how tenderly he stares back, face completely flushed red, lifting his free hand to brush his thumb along my cheek. After a moment, he fully pulls it back and grabs the base of his cock again.</p>
<p>Clay eyes are locked between us as he lines up, head of his cock resting at my entrance. </p>
<p>"You ready?" He asks, glancing up at me. </p>
<p>I nod and whine, unable to form words, curling my hands into the sheets at my sides. </p>
<p>"Good girl." Clay breathes out, tailed by a moan as he slowly pushes inside. </p>
<p>I arch under him immediately, sensation of being filled by him nearly overwhelming already. He releases a garbled mess of noises from his mouth that I think might be words, stilling his hips before he can even get halfway in, to steady himself and breathe.</p>
<p>I lift my free leg, hooking it around Clay's hip and squeezing, trying to get him to move. He lets out a jagged moan, hips twitching in temptation. </p>
<p>"Slow. You said slow." He grits out, lifting his free hand under the knee of that leg, now holding up both of my legs. </p>
<p>I swallow a moan and bat my eyelashes at him. "I can take it, it's okay now." I say, deciding I'm desperate to have him all the way inside of me. </p>
<p>Clay drags in a long breath, then pushes on the backs of both of my thighs, folding me and snapping his hips to bury his cock. We release matching moans, now fully connected. I flutter my pussy around his cock, like I can somehow drag him deeper like that.</p>
<p>It gets an immediate reaction, his jaw ticking as he stares down at me, holding himself still above me. I twitch my hips, trying to get some movement. </p>
<p>"Stop." Clay says with an immediate moan and exhale. I tilt my head and clench as hard as I can, milking his cock with my insides. </p>
<p>He sobs out a moan. "It's— you're so tight." He says, keening as I clench again. "Son of a—" </p>
<p>I feel smug, searching his face. "Why don't you just fuck me already?" I ask, false sweet, steadying my voice as well as I can. </p>
<p>Clay glares at me and grunts, suddenly lifting me and folding me enough that he can rest one of my ankles on his shoulder. He takes his now free hand to cup my face and trace my lip with his thumb. </p>
<p>I revel in the moment of tenderness before his hand drops, gripping my jaw and forcing my face up. </p>
<p>"Why don't you say that again." He says, voice low.</p>
<p>I blink up at him, knowing I... probably shouldn't. I dart my tongue out over my lip.</p>
<p>I am not known to be particularly intelligent.</p>
<p>"Why don't you just fuck me—" I'm interrupted by a strangled moan as Clay's hips pull back and snap against my ass aggressively hard. </p>
<p>I drag in a breath, arching and shivering, listening to him moan in response, searching his face. He winks once and pulls his hips back again. </p>
<p>"Clay—" I warn, lifting my hands to curl around his biceps. </p>
<p>Clay smirks and leans down, catching me in a kiss. "You asked." He mumbles against my lips, and starts to roll his hips at a rapid pace, fucking in and out of me.</p>
<p>I'm sure the noises I'm making are ridiculous, but I lose most presence of mind, focusing only how good he feels inside of me and the way he has his tongue in my mouth. It feels good enough I want to sob. Though I know it only feels like this because it's him. I'm in deep. </p>
<p>I lift my hands to his shoulders and dig my nails in, trying to just hold on for the ride as Clay snaps his hips. We stay like that, bodies growing slick with sweat as we work to chase our shared pleasure. </p>
<p>I'm relaxed under Clay, blissed out to feel so much of him on and in me, being completely claimed by his body. Suddenly, he pauses and his hips shift. His hand drags down my body from my face, landing back between my legs. He immediately curls a finger around my clit and starts to thrust again, quickly re-finding the rhythm. </p>
<p>My entire body goes reactive, suddenly being barreled toward an orgasm by the dual stimulation. I arch into Clay, moaning, desperately chasing the feeling, clenching down on his cock again. He moans in response, hips stuttering before he gets back into rhythm. </p>
<p>I sink my nails into his back, hard enough to draw blood. "Don't stop—" I moan out. "I'm so close— ah— I'm. C'mon—" I know I sound completely gone, repeated phrases dropping from my mouth every second I'm not moaning.</p>
<p>Clay just grunts in response, continuing to pound me into the mattress while his fingers work my clit. </p>
<p>My entire body pulls taut, eyes shutting tight, air knocking out of my lungs. I arch. I start to cum before I can make a noise, seeing stars. My body starts to shake and I draw in a gasp, finally giving me the air I need to release a guttural moan.</p>
<p>Clay moans in response, dropping his hand to my hip to brace himself as his thrusts go ragged. I know I've tightened down on his cock, like I can lock him inside. </p>
<p>"Hold on for me, baby—" He moans out, shifting his hips to re-angle, and keep thrusting.</p>
<p>I whine and nod, all I can do, every muscle in my body simultaneously taut and loose, reacting on their own. I know I'm being vocal, but I'm so gone that I can't help it. </p>
<p>Clay fucks me through the overstimulation, back into building pleasure, before his thrusts finally slow. He leans over, moaning low, and catches my mouth in a kiss. He snaps his hips, hard, then stills, grinding as deep inside of me as he can.</p>
<p>I moan into Clay's mouth as I feel his cock jerk inside of me and he moans back. I suddenly feel a lot fuller as he pulls back and starts peppering my face with kisses and murmured praise. </p>
<p>"So good, so fucking good..." Clay mumbles out, dragging his lips along my jaw. </p>
<p>I warm under the praise, letting my hands relax to drag them up and down his back soothingly. He collapses on top of me, pressing the length of our bodies flush together as we wrap up in each other, catching our breath.</p>
<p>Once I feel like I can breathe again I slap Clay's shoulders. He rolls his hips one more time, moaning low, before he shifts and pulls back, slipping out of me. We stare at each other as his hands land on my thighs, slowly running up and down them to soothe them as they tremble.</p>
<p>His eyes drift down, and I follow, curling up to see he's watching his cum drip out of me. I suddenly want to hide, flush with embarrassment. </p>
<p>"Don't look..." I whine, curling my hands against my chest.</p>
<p>Clay hums, still staring. Suddenly his hand glides up my thigh, resting on my stomach. "Pass me my phone." He says, and finally looks up at me. </p>
<p>My breath hitches. "Why?" I ask, squirming under his gaze. </p>
<p> Clay's brow furrows. "I want another picture. What else?" He says, like it's obvious. </p>
<p>I flounder to find my words, feeling like I'm about to explode. Still, I grope the mattress to find his phone and pass it off to him. </p>
<p>I exhale in surprise as he grips the back of my thigh and folds me in half again. He grins down at me, and angles his phone. I have to look away as he takes the pictures, incredibly embarrassed.</p>
<p>"I'm literally jerking off to that later." Clay says and laughs before he drops my leg, then his phone, leaning down to kiss me again. </p>
<p>I roll my eyes, melting into the kiss, still feeling sticky. I pull back just long enough to speak. "Pay me back by getting a towel." I say, then pout.</p>
<p>Clay sighs, but pulls back, pressing a kiss to my forehead and swinging out of the bed. He snags his boxers, hopping to put them on as he unlocks my door then wanders out of my room. </p>
<p>"Under the sink!" I call out to no response.</p>
<p>I huff, now alone, and tug at the choker, pulling it off, followed quickly by the thigh highs. They've played their part. I stretch and try to relax as I wait for Clay to come back. </p>
<p>He appears in the doorway, holding a cloth and a water bottle, grinning like an idiot. I immediately make grabby hands, suddenly desperately thirsty.</p>
<p>Clay laughs, kneeling on the mattress and passing the bottle. "I'm so smart and talented. You can say it." He says, quickly wiping me down and dropping the cloth to my desk.</p>
<p>I kick at him, rolling my eyes, chugging the bottle. Clay makes a noise of protest. "Share— WHAT!" He yelps as I nearly finish it. </p>
<p>I pass the single drink of water back to him with a smug look. "Thanks." I say, lips curling into a smile,</p>
<p>Clay squints at me, but takes the single drink and drops the empty bottle to my desk without another complaint. He settles back on top of me with his head on my stomach. I lift my hands to card my fingers through his hair, completely lax and spent under him. </p>
<p>"I should win more Minecraft games so I can get more pussy." Clay mumbles, and I immediately laugh. He wheezes back the second I start laughing.</p>
<p>"You're so stupid why can't you ever—" I cut off with another laugh, just listening to him laugh.</p>
<p>I take a steadying breath, still laughing. "You really drove two hours for this coochie." I say, nearly cackling. "I'm literally kicking you out at 8am tomorrow." I say.</p>
<p>Clay keeps laughing back, burying his face in my stomach. "And I'd do it again. Bop bop." </p>
<p>I nearly shout with laughter, thrashing under him and slapping his head. "Let go! I'm kicking you out right now I hate—" I have to stop just to breathe around my laughter. </p>
<p>"Simp!" I accuse, and he collapses into a wheezing laugh. </p>
<p>We eventually fall into a comfortable laughter that tapers back off. I relax under Clay, completely sated and happy, and keep playing with his hair, stupid smile plastered across my face.</p>
<p>God, I'm in so deep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. technical difficulties (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I drag a hand down my face. </p><p>My car won't start. It's Thursday morning. I have class in 15 minutes, and... my car won't start. I try it once, twice, thrice and get nothing. I slam my head into the wheel and call the shop for a tow.</p><p>***</p><p>I end up skipping my day of classes after towing my car and getting a scrumptious little $700 bill for the repairs. I hide under my blanket and pout. I want to throw a huge fit.</p><p>The $700 I could deal with, the inconvenience I could deal with. But, my car needs a specific part that won't get here until Monday. I'm out of a vehicle for the weekend. </p><p>I thrash, kicking my legs and pouting as I swaddle myself like the little angry baby I currently am. There's no chance I'm going to see Clay this weekend, unless I ask him to come down again. And I don't want to ask him to do that twice in a row.</p><p>After the one night thing we had I was hoping for some real quality time with him so that we could relax and hangout.  I guess that's not happening.</p><p>As though he has a sixth sense, I feel my phone buzz. I check the text.</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>2 New Messages</p><p>'when's ur last class?' 2:37 pm<br/>'also what do u wanna eat?' 2:37pm</p><p>I sigh. It's time to bite the bullet. </p><p>'about that... 😅😅😅' 2:38 pm</p><p>I start to type out my explanation, getting a response before I can finish.</p><p>'don't break my heart :(' 2:38 pm</p><p>I literally whine aloud, tears building in my eyes. Before I can think I call him.</p><p>"Wait what? Everything okay?" Clay asks as he answers, immediately protective. </p><p>I whine into my phone like the idiot I am. </p><p>"No. My car broke down and it won't be fixed till Monday." I sniffle. </p><p>Clay exhales. "Oh. Shit." </p><p>"Could you come over instead?" I ask, voice small, embarrassed to make him do it twice in a row.</p><p>He immediately sighs. "I have something on Saturday. So any way we swing it I could only be down for less than a day." </p><p> We fall into silence, me trying very much to not cry. </p><p>"We could do next weekend?" Clay finally suggests, voice gentle. </p><p>I pout and kick. "I can't. Exam that Monday. Weekend after that?" I ask, already disappointed how far out we are.</p><p>Clay sighs. "I'm out of town that weekend. Family trip." </p><p>I huff and curl in on myself, hugging my pillow. "Three weeks away it is." I laugh because it's funny. It's funny that the universe hates me. </p><p>"I don't... I don't wanna go a month without seeing you." Clay sounds cautious, like he's scheming. </p><p>"What if I just came and picked you up?" He asks. </p><p>I swallow around the lump in my throat, blinking. "I— you could... are you sure? That's a lot of driving." I say, now hopeful. "I can send you gas money..."</p><p>Clay hums. "It's whatever. You can just pay me back... some other way." He says. It's like I can hear his stupid grin.</p><p>I roll my eyes. "So what? I'm just a hole..." I sigh, acting dramatic. "Is that all I am to you?" I pout and try to fake cry, alarmed at quickly I start actually crying.</p><p>Why the fuck am I so emotional right now?</p><p>"Woah, woah, hey that's not— you know that was just a joke—" Clay starts, trying to comfort me.</p><p>I bubble a laugh through the tears. "I was just making a joke too, I don't know why this started happening." I cover my mouth and whine, still crying.</p><p>Clay exhales the breath he was holding. "Okay, good." </p><p>I swallow around my tears, fanning my face, feeling like a hot mess, at a loss for words. Clay ends up being the one to break the silence. </p><p>"I could come down tonight and stay to split the drive." He pauses. "When's your last class?" </p><p>I clear my throat. "Really? That sounds nice. I have a class from 7-8 Friday morning but thats it. We can leave anytime after." I end with a small sniffle, finally calming down from whatever that was. </p><p>Clay speaks again, "Yeah I just, I'd have to ask someone to check up on Patches but thats it." </p><p>We fall back into silence. I'm... in my feelings for some reason. It makes me nervous how much he's doing for me, feeling like I'm offering not much in return. I have to find a way to shake the thought before I fall down that rabbit hole and cry again. Thankfully, Clay starts talking again.</p><p>"So what about today? Any more classes?" </p><p>I hum. "No." I mumble, settling into my bed, muffled by my pillow. "Well yes, actually." I sigh and stretch. "But I'm going to skip it because I'm going to cry again I think." </p><p>Clay immediately laughs. "You sure you're okay? Jeeze." </p><p>I close my eyes, burying in my bed. "No. But, there's nothing I can do about that." I stretch out leisurely. </p><p>"Well, if you're skipping everything I could leave right now. Lemme just text my mom and see if she can check up on Patches for me."</p><p>I feel pleased. "Kiss her for me." I mumble.</p><p>"...My mom?" He asks.</p><p>"What? The cat, dumbass." I immediately laugh. </p><p>"Oh." Clay says, laughing back. "That makes more sense."</p><p>I roll my eyes. "I'm hanging up to sob and pass out from exhaustion now." </p><p>Clay hums. "Okay. I'll see you in a couple hours, then. Probably." He hesitates for a moment. "You want me to bring you anything?" </p><p>I gnaw my lip, considering. I don't want to ask for anything, knowing that he's already doing so much for me. But... "Can I get like... an Arizona green tea." I pause. "And like... a family size container of strawberries." I pause again.</p><p>"Okay yeah. I can do that." Clay says, laughing. </p><p>I pout, feeling guilty. "I wasn't done..." </p><p>Clay makes a small noise. "What else, then?" </p><p>"Um... can you get like... just a can of whipped cream. And..." I taper off.</p><p>"And?"</p><p>"And I want another hoodie. The other one doesn't smell like you anymore." I blink, realizing I'm being absurdly fussy. I blame it on my shit day and push the thought away. </p><p>Clay snorts a laugh. "Yeah. No problem. Anything else, princess?" </p><p>I roll my eyes at the name. "My handsome husband home safe from the coal mines." I joke, in a wispy voice and a dated accent. </p><p>Clay wheezes. "I'm sorry to tell you this ma'am, but your husband was crushed to death in a mysterious anvil accident." He jokes back.</p><p>"Oh! Oh my!" I start to fake cry. "My dearest!" I feel the urge to really cry creep up on me again. </p><p>"Okay—" I rush in again. "On that note. I'm hanging up. Bye." </p><p>"BYE!" I hear Clay yell into the phone as I pull it away and hang up on him. </p><p>I notice the way I'm stupidly smiling for no reason, to myself, alone in my room. I curl up under my blanket. The overwhelming urge to cry creeps up on me again. </p><p>***</p><p>I blink awake to my phone buzzing next to my head. I slap around the mattress to find it, then answer. </p><p>"H'lo?" I ask, trying to get my eyes to fully open. </p><p>"Severe thunderstorm warning in—" I hang up the call and stare at my phone, disoriented.</p><p>7:21 pm beams up at me.</p><p>What? Did I pass out that hard? I know I can sleep like a brick but—</p><p>Suddenly there's a crack of thunder loud enough that the walls shake and I yelp, suddenly quite a bit more awake. The storm must've mostly woken me up, and my phone buzzing in my face pulled the trigger.</p><p>I swing my feet out of my bed and stand, wavering for a moment. I can hear Ellie shouting at the T.V. and stumble out of my room, following the noise, not thinking of much else. </p><p>I wander out, dragging my hand along the wall, feeling like I just got pulled back from the brink of death. I know I probably look a mess, having done nothing but cry thrice and roll around in my bed today. </p><p>I freeze as I come to the end of the hallway and see Clay sitting on my couch on the opposite end of Ellie. I blink, tempted to rub my eyes. </p><p>Oh right. Shit. </p><p>Clay's eyes catch on me as I drift forward, looking around, confused. He sits up and leans forward, immediately cracking into a grin.</p><p>"You're actually alive." He says, immediately teasing. I just blink, standing there, staring at him.</p><p>"We were thinking of calling an ambulance. Or maybe just the morgue—" I start walking toward him, ignoring him, brain still foggy.</p><p>Clay barrels on. "I left the stuff you asked for on the—" I get close enough to touch him and plant a hand on his chest, pushing him back into the couch. </p><p>He stutters to a stop for just a moment, letting me lead him, looking lost. "I left it—" He starts again, and I lean in, lifting my knee to plant it onto the couch next to him, arched over him. </p><p>Clay blinks at me, mouth slightly ajar, eyes flicking up and down my face. He hooks one thumb toward my kitchen, his other hand automatically coming up to rest on my waist. </p><p>"It's on the table. What are you—" </p><p>I grin and plop down in Clay's lap, nuzzling my face into his chest. He makes a choked noise, both arms wrapping around me to hold me tight to his chest. I settle in, still foggy, now contented. </p><p>Ellie side-eyes us. "Hey." She says, before turning back to the T.V.</p><p>"Hey." I say back, muffled from Clay's shirt. </p><p>He sighs, tightening his grip on me. "I see. So you're just ignoring me." </p><p>I tilt my head back and finally look at him. "When did you even get here?" I ask, feeling guilty.</p><p>Clay furrows his brow and pulls his phone out. "Like... an hour ago. Do you ever check your phone?" </p><p>I blink at him, confused, and pull my phone out. My cheeks immediately heat in embarrassment.</p><p>Daddy Dream <br/>3 Missed Calls<br/>1 Voicemail<br/>7 New Messages</p><p>Oops.</p><p>I swallow nervously, looking up at Clay's face. He raises his brows. "Go ahead. Check 'em." He says, barely holding back a laugh. </p><p>I shift nervously and toss my phone out of reach to the floor. "I don't want to." I say. "I don't see it so it doesn't exist." </p><p>Clay rumbles a low laugh. "Turn on your sound if you're passing out and know someone's coming over. You absolute rat." He says, but squeezes me in his hold.</p><p>"I agree." Ellie chimes in from where she sits. </p><p>"Thank you." Clay says, briefly turning to her before turning back to me.</p><p>I purse my lips, looking to the side and tilting my head back. "It's not that bad..." I pause for a moment, finally looking at his face again. "You made it inside, so I guess it worked out in the end."</p><p>Clay's eyes open wide, face floundering in disbelief. "It's not that bad?! You're lucky your roommate didn't mace me." </p><p>Ellie looks over and nods. </p><p>"I was pounding the door like a psychopath trying to wake you up. Thank God, she believed me." He says with a big sigh, nearly shouting.</p><p>"Barely." Ellie chirps, then side-eyes Clay. "I had my doubts. But... it seemed like something you'd believably do."</p><p>I roll my eyes, looking at Clay. "You're so dramatic." I waffle for a moment, between my pride and feeling bad. "I'm sorry..." I mumble out.</p><p>"HUH? WHAT WAS THAT? A LITTLE LOUDER FOR ME." Clay immediately exclaims.</p><p>I pout, turning to hide my face in his neck and whine. "I'm sorry." I say, at as loud of a volume as I'm willing.</p><p>Clay looks like he's about to mess with me more for my transgressions, so I move, lifting to press a kiss to his jaw. "I'm sorry." I mumble, then press a kiss to his cheek. "I'm so sorry." I continue, turning his head so I can press a kiss to his lips. He only lets me do it for a second before he pulls back, though he looks pleased, small flush on his cheeks.</p><p>"Gross." Ellie says, despite never looking away from her show. </p><p>I hide my grin in Clay's neck and roll my hips to grind into his lap. His hands immediately tighten, stilling me as he leans back to glare at me. </p><p>"Well why didn't you come wake me up once you got inside?" I say with a pout.</p><p>Clay sighs, shaking his head. "I literally tried. I walked in and all but slapped you to wake you up." </p><p>I hum. "Then slap me next time." I say with a small laugh. </p><p>He looks at me for a moment, paused in surprise, eyebrows climbing into outer space. I suddenly realize what I said and shy away.</p><p>Clay seems to find his voice again, breaking the tension. "Next time? If you do that again I'm getting back in my car and going home." </p><p>I laugh at his pain, slapping a hand to his chest and squirming out of his hold to finally go collect my treats. I drift toward the open kitchen, digging through a bag on the table, seeing everything I wanted. I go for the drink first, and down half of it standing there. </p><p>"It's not going anywhere." Clay says from where he sits. </p><p>I look over my shoulder to stare at him, and throw the drink back again, resolute to finish it just to prove a point. The point? </p><p>Um. </p><p>The point is that I'm in a mood, and I'm letting him know. I finish the drink and slam the empty can to the table, looking back to glare at Clay. </p><p>"All of that for what? Now you have no drink." He says, gesturing toward me.</p><p>I purse my lips and ignore him, turning back to my spoils. I notice he put a hoodie in the bag for me. I grab it and immediately pull it on. Thankfully, the weather actually warrants it. I lift the collar, inhaling the smell of his detergent, hoping he can't see me. </p><p>I finally grab for the strawberries, rolling my sleeves up to go rinse them in the sink. The second I'm done I wander back into the living room with the entire container of fruit and full can of whip cream.</p><p>"Dinner, dinner, dinner!" I chirp excitedly, flopping right back down in Clay's lap, hard enough that he exhales.</p><p>Clay grabs me again, holding me tight. "Is that seriously your dinner?" He asks, eyeing me. </p><p>"Yeah why not?" I say, opening the container and pulling off the cap off the whip cream with my teeth. </p><p>He blinks at me. "I— I guess." </p><p>I immediately throw my head back and spray whip cream directly into my mouth. Clay's brows knit together as he watches me. Then he shrugs.</p><p>"Whip me." He says, opening his mouth. </p><p>I choke on my snack, immediately laughing. </p><p>Clay rolls his head back on his shoulders, now grinning. "That's not—"</p><p>I interrupt him. "I can give you some whipped cream. But I'm not gonna whip you, freak." </p><p>Clay sighs, shaking his head. I angle the can. "Well? Open your mouth." </p><p>He does, and I lean in, close to his ear. "You could whip me though." I whisper.</p><p>Clay turns in surprise, and I end up just spraying whip cream across his face and onto his shirt. I immediately laugh, dropping the canister to the ground to hold my stomach, cackling.</p><p>"Sorry—" I bite out. "Blew my load—" I barely manage to say around a laugh while he sits there, looking dead inside, covered in whipped cream, rolling his tongue in his mouth. </p><p>Just watching me laugh gets a small chuckle out of him, before he tosses me off of his lap onto the couch, and gets up, walking toward the bathroom, pulling his shirt off. My laugh slowly dies in my throat as I watch him go, staring at the muscles of his back.</p><p>Very obvious scratch marks from Sunday are still there, contrastingly red and pink on his skin. My entire face heats, and I swallow nervously. I look over to Ellie and see her already staring at me.</p><p>"I saw that." Ellie says, staring me down. I duck my head.</p><p>"I get it now." She says, dipping to grab the whip cream and take some for herself. I feel almost bad for the forgotten strawberries. "If someone was fucking me good enough I did that to their back I'd let them call our relationship whatever they wanted."  She turns back to the T.V., smug. </p><p>I curl in on myself, feeling nervous and embarrassed. "But..." She starts, and side-eyes me. "That idiot is head over heels for you. I just don't know if he knows it yet." </p><p>I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "I dunno. I know he likes me but, head over heels seems a tad excessive." I say, nervous and defensive.</p><p>Ellie lifts a brow. "Yeah. You guys are so incompatible and awkward together." I look over in time to see her roll her eyes. </p><p>"Literally I feel like I might as well not exist next to you guys. I never feel like that." She points an accusatory finger toward where Clay went. "Head over heels." She turns the finger on me and stabs it into my chest. "Head over heels." </p><p>I sigh. "I just don't—" </p><p>"AHT—" Ellie rolls her eyes again, and restabs the finger. "Head—" </p><p>"Over heels. Got it. Jeeze." I look to the side, seeing Clay coming back out of the bathroom, fighting with a light switch. </p><p>Ellie hums, rocking to her feet. "I'm gonna give you guys some privacy." She smiles down at me. "Don't get cum on the couch." She says, walking away before I can defend myself.</p><p>She walks toward her bedroom, brushing past Clay on the way. He comes back into the living room, hooking a thumb over his shoulder, still shirtless. "I hung my shirt in your bathroom so it can dry overnight."</p><p>I nod, floundering a bit from the intensity of the conversation I had with Ellie, searching his face, trying to find what she saw. </p><p>I immediately give up and lay down on my back on the couch, lifting my arms and making grabby hands. Clay splits into a grin, nearly jumping to come lay down on me. </p><p>I guide his head to lay it my chest and we settle into the couch, his arms loosely wrapped around my waist. I let my hands drift to his back, and drag my fingertips along the scratches. </p><p>"Sorry about these." I mumble.</p><p>Clay turns his head, looking confused. "Wha— Oh." He laughs.</p><p>"Does it hurt?" I ask, feeling guilty. </p><p>He hums. "It stings a little. But I like it. Maybe do it lighter next time, though." He says. </p><p>I furrow my brow. "It's not— intentional. Like I guess I can do it lighter if you... fuck me less good?" I say.</p><p>Clay laughs again, lifting his brows. "Okay. You got me there. Sorry. I'm the coochie man."</p><p>I roll my eyes, and slap his back. "Give me my strawberries before I kill you for that." I say, a demand. </p><p>He obeys, just barely shifting to grab them and pass them off to me. I turn my head to watch whatever Ellie was watching. </p><p>Clay and I fall into a comfortable agreement where I feed him every other berry I grab, and he puts the whip cream on for me. We end up sucked into the show, more because we like the jokes we're making about it, than anything to do with the show.</p><p>We stay like that until the berries are gone and the Netflix overlay pops up. </p><p>'Are you still watching?'</p><p>I squint at the T.V. It... can't have been that long. Surely. </p><p>"What time is it?" I ask, nudging Clay. </p><p>He grumbles slightly, hand shooting down to fish in his pocket. "Well maybe you'd know if you didn't throw your phone across the room." He says, pulling his phone up. I open my mouth to protest, but don't get the chance. "11:04." He says.</p><p>I blink. "Shit. Alright. I gotta get up at 6am." I say, then groan. </p><p>Clay grins and sits up off of me, rattling the can of whipped cream. "You wanna help me kill this real quick?" He asks. </p><p>I roll my eyes. I'm ready to play fucking games. "Sure. Whip me, daddy." I say, then open my mouth and push my tongue out, looking up at him. </p><p>Clay smiles and shakes his head, knowing exactly what I'm doing. "Fuck you." He mumbles, cupping my jaw and spraying the last bit of whip cream directly into my mouth.</p><p>I laugh and close my mouth, swallowing. Clay's hand stays firm, gripping my face and holding me in place while I smile up at him.</p><p>"You tryna start this weekend right?" He asks, his other hand suddenly stuffing up my shirt. </p><p>I smile, happy that I got him riled up. "Nah. Let's just go to bed. I have to wake up early."</p><p>I lean forward until my lips ghost his neck. I dart my tongue out, just to taste. "You can have me for lunch tomorrow." I whisper, then lift to my feet, stepping away from him. </p><p>Clay catches me immediately, reeling me right back down into his lap. </p><p>"That was an interesting little performance." He says, low, dropping his hands to my thighs and gripping.</p><p>I squirm in his lap, immediately heating. I realize more and more how much I like when he acts like this. And that I... maybe... act up just to force him into it, even unintentionally. Still... I really do have to wake up at 6 am.</p><p>"I actually have to go to bed." I say, feeling guilty. </p><p>Clay's grip tightens, holding me in place as he presses a kiss to my neck. He holds me only a moment longer before letting his hands relax. He sighs and leans back, dragging his hands up my thighs. </p><p>"Tomorrow, then." Clay says. And I know he means it. </p><p>I stand up off of him, unsteady on my feet. He follows me up, hovering behind my back, following me to my room. As we settle into bed wrapped in each others arms I mentally prepare for a... busy... weekend.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. fuck boy type beat (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I very nearly skip out of class, already on the phone with Clay who's trying to communicate where he is so I can find him and we can get on the road.</p><p>"No— yeah I see you." I crane my neck, and wave. </p><p>His car is one of the... newer ones, to say the least. I hang up and rush over with a massive grin on my face, knowing we're about to have another full weekend to ourselves, barring a couple hours on Saturday. I even took Sunday off. Which, after that tow bill... I might regret.</p><p>I swing the passenger door open and hop in. I'm exhausted, but also vibrating with excitement. Clay looks like it's 8 am. His face is sleep soft, hair messed. He turns toward me with hooded eyes and just stares. </p><p>"What?" I ask, beginning to fluster under his gaze.</p><p>He hums, dragging his eyes down my body like he's undressing me in his mind. "Nothing." He says, not very convincing, staring at me. He leans back, still staring, then reaches for the radio, cranking it. </p><p>I wanna see some ass<br/>I wanna see some ass<br/>Baby can you do it like that?</p><p>Clay continues staring at me, face slowly spreading into a grin as the song continues playing.</p><p>From the front to the back<br/>She said, "I don't wanna move too fast"<br/>'Til she hit that gas </p><p>My lips twitch and I close my eyes, focusing on fighting my smile. "Is there something you'd like to say, Clay?" I barely manage to choke out, and open my eyes again. </p><p>He taps his phone. </p><p>Before I die I'm tryna fuck you, baby<br/>Hopefully we don't have no babies—</p><p>I slap my hand out and turn the radio off, stomach burning with a laugh as we stare each other down. </p><p>Clay snorts first, and suddenly we devolve into laughter. I lean into his seat, slapping at him, ripping the aux cord out of his phone. </p><p>"You'll get this back when you're a good boy—" I say. Clay shouts, trying to pull the cord back, but I'm faster, tucking back into my seat with it. </p><p>I laugh, plugging it into my phone. Clay immediately forfeits, rolling his eyes. I'm pulled from my focus of finding a song by him.</p><p>"Hey, look at me." Clay says.</p><p>I turn to look, and see he's now in sunglasses. I blink at him. "You look... like a tool." </p><p>He pouts. "You're supposed to say—" He pitches his voice up, "'Oh my god Clay! You're so handsome!'."</p><p>So, we're starting this trip being stupid. I'll play along. </p><p>I fake a loud moan. "Fuck! Daddy! Pop off! You're so sexy! Chill!" </p><p>Clay immediately wheezes, folding back into his seat, barely holding himself up. I settle back, and finally pick a song. </p><p>I realize he might've been onto something with No Guidance... and settle for that. But, I pick a remix. </p><p>Clay turns toward me, "Wow, never heard this before..." He says, dripping with sarcasm, starting the car and craning his neck to back out. He tapers off as the remixed lyrics come in. </p><p>He know that I love him got 'em fucking me raw</p><p>He gives me a smile, and I duck my head.</p><p>The second he gets on the road, Clay cranks his hand back and brings it down on my thigh with a massive slap that stings enough to make me flinch and yelp. The second his hand lands he grips tight, wobbling my entire leg. </p><p>"Let's get this bread, gamers!" He says, before letting his hand relax a little, more gently kneading the flesh of my thigh.</p><p>I huff a small laugh, but warm under the attention. "Chill out thigh grabber 9000." I say.</p><p>Clay turns toward me for just a second, smile curling his face, then creeps his hand higher, until his pinky is pressed precariously close between my legs. I squeeze his hand to a stop between my thighs, and he spasms it. I only squeeze harder, locking it in.</p><p>"Please release me." He finally asks, after a moment of struggling.</p><p>I hum, considering. "Are you going to keep being a horny Harold? Or will my coochie be safe?" I ask.</p><p>Clay pouts. "Do I have to promise?"</p><p>I roll my eyes. "What? Yes." I say, and he sighs. </p><p>I smile. "Repeat after me: I, Clay 'Dream' Minecrafter, pledge, to uphold the sanctity and safety of your delectable, gorilla grip, super soaker pussy."</p><p>Clay immediately wheezes, jerking his arm back to himself as I let my thighs relax. "Clay Minecrafter." He repeats, still laughing. </p><p>He twists his upper body toward me. "Baby, will you do me the honors of becoming Mrs. Minecrafter?" He asks, smiling at me.</p><p>I gasp. "Yes! I do!" And we both go back into laughing.</p><p>The first hour of the drive goes similarly. Me picking music, Clay being handsy, me wanting to be handsy too but not doing it on principal, both of us suffering from brainrot. </p><p>About halfway through the drive Clay pulls off the interstate. "I gotta get gas." He clarifies, turning toward a gas station. I nod.</p><p>Clay parks at the pump, reaching over me to pull a mask out of his glove box. "You coming in?" He asks, eyeing me. </p><p>I shake my head. "No. I don't wanna move." I say, having settled into a comfortable position, early wake up time catching up on me. </p><p>"You want anything, then?" He asks. </p><p>"I— no it's fine." I say, interrupting myself before I can ask for anything, remembering he already bought me shit yesterday and feeling bad. </p><p>"Alright. Don't get kidnapped." He says, but stays, hesitating for a moment. I look at him, about to ask why he's still here, before he leans in and pecks my cheek, then all but runs out of the car. </p><p>I smile like an idiot, watching him walk away, putting his mask on. Before he makes it into the store, he turns and dice rolls, walking backwards. I laugh, then wave at him. Absolute tomfoolery. </p><p>I relax in the car without him, deciding I'm going to queue up something interesting and explicit to play for him when he gets back, mirroring what he did to me earlier. </p><p>I sit around for just a couple minutes before I see him emerge from the store. He walks right up to his car and swings his door open, throwing his mask and a green tea into my lap.</p><p>"For you." He says, before immediately retreating back out and closing his door, turning to actually pump his gas. </p><p>I feel my face warm, delicately grabbing the drink like it's a prize, then putting the mask back where he got it. I'm glad he still has to get gas because... I need a moment. I'm flustered by the gesture, suddenly thinking about whether or not I could really quickly suck his—</p><p>Calm down. It's just a drink. I crack it open and take a sip, happily wiggling in my seat. I put it down, and prepare for him to come into the car and fall into my trap. </p><p>Clay finally hops in, grinning. I just stare at him. I make a show of very obviously dragging my eyes up and down his body, just so that he notices.</p><p>He falls for it. "What? Was that the wrong drink?" He asks, furrowing his brow. </p><p>I lean back into my seat, fighting my smile. "No, it's nothing." I say, then tilt my head back, dragging my eyes up and down him one more time. </p><p>Clay stares at me, obviously confused, opening his mouth to speak, then I press play and turn the volume up absurdly loud. </p><p>Fuck this pussy boy, fuck it</p><p>Clay flinches at the volume, and I slowly lose the fight to not smile, probably looking psychotic as I stare him down, bass violently thumping.</p><p>Fuck it right boy! <br/>(you know I love it when you)<br/>Fuck it, fuck it right boy</p><p>I watch him flounder for a minute, opening and closing his mouth. "Do you have something to say?" He finally asks, voice raised, before cracking into a grin.</p><p>I feign confusion. "What do you mean? I can't hear you over the music." I crank it louder and stare him down, then start shout-singing along with it.</p><p>"DO MY DANCE ON YOUR DICK<br/>OOH YOU KNOW YOU LOVE THIS SHIT—"</p><p>Clay continues staring at me, lips twitching. The chorus comes back around and he jumps in, shouting back.</p><p>"FUCK IT RIGHT BOY—"<br/>"YOU KNOW THAT I LOVE IT WHEN YOU—"</p><p>We inhale, and sing-shout the next part together. </p><p>"FUCK IT, FUCK IT RIGHT B-"</p><p>I gasp, clapping one hand over his mouth and using the other to turn the radio off as I watch a mother walk by, glaring at us and covering her child's ears. We watch her walk away in dead silence before Clay snaps his head to look at me, and I turn to look at him, dropping my hand to his shoulder.</p><p>We hold the silence for only a second longer before we crumble into laughter. Clay literally punches his steering wheel, rocking in his seat as his wheeze takes him out. "A child I— hhhh—" He sputters, and I have to cover a snort, now laughing more at his laugh than the original situation. </p><p>It takes us a second to calm down and breathe before Clay finally starts driving and gets us back on the road. I get the radio going again, a lot quieter. </p><p>I'm bouncing in my seat, literally actually bouncing in my seat, riled up from acting like idiots all morning. </p><p>Clay side-eyes me. "Save some of that for later." He says, grinning. </p><p>I stop and immediately turn toward him. "I'm bored." I complain.</p><p>He shoots me a glare over his sunglasses for just a second. "Scroll your phone or something. I'm driving." </p><p>I hum, and lean back. "Wanna play a game?" </p><p>"Like what?" He asks. </p><p>I grin. "20 questions. I'll go first. Do you prefer streaming or Youtube?" </p><p>Clay immediately grins. "Green. My turn. Are you a virgin?" He says, then bites his lower lip and rubs his chin. "A ha ha ha."</p><p>I slap at his arm. "I'm being serious."</p><p>Clay breaks back into a real smile, batting me off. "Fine! Fine." He comes back calmer. "Uh, Youtube, I guess..." He sighs and tilts his head, "This is so stupid. What am I supposed to ask? I've known you forever..." </p><p>I lean in toward him and lay my head on his shoulder. "I mean. You can ask actual sex questions. The sex is new." I say, trying to not get flustered.</p><p>Clay briefly turns toward me, face knitting together like he's thinking. "Alright... God I feel like a fuck boy. Uh... what's the first song on your sex playlist?"</p><p>"I don't have one." I say, then hum, considering. "But if I did..." I unlock my phone and immediately start scrolling. "Maybe this?" I say, then play 'LIKE I WANT YOU - Giveon'.</p><p>Clay leans forward, turning the volume up. Suddenly, I'm a lot more nervous, watching his face for his reaction. His head almost imperceptibly dips with the music. We get halfway through before he turns it down and talks. </p><p>"Okay. I could see it." He says. </p><p>I lean in, swallowing nervously. "See what?" I ask with a breathy laugh. </p><p>Clay tilts his head toward me, smirking in a way that makes my stomach flutter. "So I've got you laid out under me. You're being noisy and get embarrassed and cover your face."</p><p>I feel my entire body flush with heat. I wasn't... ready for this. He barrels on, unaware of his affect on me. </p><p>"I have to stop and pull your hands back because I want to watch you. I keep your hands pinned above your head. When you finish I have to kiss you just to get you to stop making noise, then I keep going." He shoots me another glance. "You see it?" He asks. </p><p>I try to say something, add anything, but all I can get out is a breathy, "Y-yeah."</p><p>Clay turns toward me again, face split into a grin. "Yeah? Yeah?" He lifts his brows.</p><p>I duck my head, more than embarrassed. "Shut up." I squeak out. "What's yours?" I ask, as the song finally finishes.</p><p>He takes a second to think, then grabs his phone, rapidly tapping, eyes darting between it and the road.</p><p>"Clay." I chastise, he ignores me. He's always been bad about using his phone while driving. </p><p>After another second he passes his phone to me. I look at the screen. It's his Spotify, opened to a personal playlist titled 'yoooooo! cum town'.</p><p>I snort a laugh, immediately rolling my eyes and scroll through it. There are a few that stick out to me, a few I've never heard, and a few that don't make sense. I glance up at him, seeing he looks smug, and switch the aux to his phone.</p><p>"I just have one question Clay..." I start, then tap 'Coochie Land - YN Jay' off his playlist. "What the fuck?" </p><p>Clay confidently nods, reaching over to turn up the volume as I let the song play. I stare and blink at him, nearly speechless as the song starts with carnival music. </p><p>The singer comes in.</p><p>I'm in coochie land<br/>Do you know the coochie man</p><p>"CLAY." I shout, face lax in disbelief. I blink, "This isn't real. You've never fucked anyone to this, right?"</p><p>Clay turns toward me, lips held tight, then wordlessly turns back to the road. I drag in a shuddered breath. "Please. I need you to say sike."</p><p>He stays silent for another moment. Then, turns and extends a hand toward me, singing along with the song. "How are you doing today I'm the coochie man—"</p><p>I cut him off, nearly screaming. "PULL OVER. LET ME OUT. I GOTTA GO."</p><p>Clay pulls back into his seat, laughing and refocusing on driving. "I haven't— I promise— I haven't. It's a joke." He barely chokes out between wheezes. </p><p>I rip the aux out, and drop his phone in his cupholder, putting the cord back in my phone. </p><p>"Okay— okay. I'll admit, this is kinda fun. Your turn." Clay says as soon as he's settled back down. </p><p>I sigh, picking a new song: 'Sugar Daddy - Qveen Herby'. "I dedicate this one to this $1 Arizona. You spoil me, daddy." I say, lifting the tea and taking a drink.</p><p>Clay rolls his head on his shoulders, though I see the pleased smile tugging his lips. "Broke the bank. Now ask your question." </p><p>I hum, rotating in my seat so I can just keep facing him. "You ever done anything sexual while on stream?" I ask. </p><p>Clay knits his brows, suddenly more serious. "Not really. I mean like, beyond what happened Saturday, no." He says.</p><p>I nod. "Would you go further?" </p><p>He sucks in a breath. "It... it really depends. I don't think I would while streaming, but maybe while I was recording."</p><p>"That's... really fair." I say.</p><p>Clay glances at me, smiling. "That was two questions. I get two." </p><p>I roll my eyes. "Fine. Ask your two questions." I say. </p><p>"What's the most times you've ever cum and who was it with?" He asks. </p><p>I grin. "7. It was me." </p><p>Clay sighs, sounding annoyed. "I mean with another person." He says.</p><p>I knew that's what he meant but... I don't want to answer truthfully. Because the truth? Twice. With him. A week ago. Most men are... bad at sex. I waffle to find a lie and settle for the guy I talked to for a few months my freshman year. I never even slept with him.</p><p>"You remember Connor?" I ask. </p><p>Clay's hands immediately tense on the wheel. "Yeah. I hated that guy." He says, suddenly a lot more irritated. </p><p>I feel guilty already. I round up one from what I had with Clay. "Okay. Three times with Connor." I say. </p><p>Clay rolls his shoulders. "Three? I could beat that." He says, landing a hand back on my thigh. </p><p>I feel my heart literally pound, stomach doing flips. "Yeah? Prove it." I say, nervous. </p><p>He turns toward me again, voice all heat. "When we get home... I'm not letting you go until you hit five. Minimum." </p><p>My breath hitches and we fall into a heavy silence. I know he isn't joking. He knows he isn't joking. A timer for 45 minutes from now has been metaphorically set. </p><p>"You're so competitive for what..." I say, swallowing a lump in my throat, trying to break the silence. </p><p>Clay smiles, face going soft again. "Is that your question?" He asks.</p><p>I release the tension I was holding. "No." I pause, thinking. "Can I have a precursor question, maybe freebie?" I ask.</p><p>His brows furrow. "Yes? What? What you mean?" </p><p>I bite my lip. "You ever take the BDSM test?" I ask.</p><p>Clay hums. "No I... don't think so." </p><p>"Would you?" I ask.</p><p>He shrugs. "Sure? I guess?" </p><p>I nod. "Okay. I'll add it to our plans for activities to do after we fuck, then. Your turn." </p><p>Clay, briefly turns toward me. "Have you taken the... that test?" He asks. I nod.</p><p>"What was your result? Is there one result?" He says, tentative.</p><p>I grin. "Is that your question?" </p><p>He shrugs. "Sure."</p><p>"Well..." I start. "The results are like, percent compatibilities. My top result was tied between brat and switch." </p><p>"Okay..." Clay starts, "So tell me what that means." </p><p>I tilt my head back. "It means I can do whatever I want, just to piss you off." </p><p>Clay's hands tense on the wheel. "What? Don't—" </p><p>I interrupt him, leaning into his space and planting my mouth to his neck. I press a soft kiss, nip at his skin, then dive in to kiss his neck harder. He shudders out a soft moan, holding the wheel like he's about to break it.</p><p>"F-fucking— God." He groans out.</p><p>I lift my hand to his lap, palming at him as he immediately swears. I kiss one more time and lean back into my seat, fixing my hair. </p><p>Clay exhales, shifting his hips. I look down to his lap and see he's partially hard. I stifle a laugh as he continues to shift. </p><p>"You're a tease." He says, rapidly bouncing his leg, letting his head fall back with a thump.</p><p>I tilt my head. "Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" I ask, false sweet. </p><p>Clay blows out a tense breath, shaking his head, heated smile on his face. "You'll see when we get home, huh?" He says, then plants his hand back on my thigh. </p><p>I feel my face heat with want, then stare down into my lap, covering his hand with my own. "So... that's what brat means..." I say, nervous again.</p><p>Clay nods. "Got it." He says, pulling his hand off the wheel to shake it loose from gripping so hard.</p><p>We continue playing, though the rest of questions feel... tamer... after that, until we're only a few minutes away from his house. I get quieter, more nervous the closer we get, remembering what he said. </p><p>Clay seems to notice the effect he's having, looking increasingly smug where he sits. Still, he holds my hand on my thigh, rubbing small soothing circles. </p><p>I tense up as we pull into his driveway and he shifts into park. I feel frozen, swallowing around my tongue where it sits heavy in my mouth, stomach fluttering hard enough to hurt. </p><p>I see and feel Clay start moving, pocketing his phone and unbuckling himself before turning the car off and pocketing the keys. I finally find enough presence to unbuckle my seatbelt and start moving. I turn and land my hand on my door.</p><p>"Wait a sec—" Clay says and I immediately stop. I quickly turn toward him, searching his face. </p><p>"What?" I manage to ask.</p><p>Clay beckons me with his hand, and I feel myself only get more flustered, leaning in toward him. My breath hitches as he reaches once I get close, planting a hand on my furthest thigh and cupping my face with the other. </p><p>He gets close enough to share breath with me, then presses a feather soft kiss to my lips. My eyes immediately fall shut as he pulls back. I take a single steadying breath, stomach burning as he leans in and presses another chaste kiss to my lips, sliding his hand up my thigh. </p><p>"Relax, baby." Clay mumbles against my lips, then presses in, hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth. </p><p>My hands dart out to grip his shoulders as he nearly climbs into my seat, pushing my head back as he kisses me. All I can do is moan into his mouth, melting under him. </p><p>After what feels like forever, Clay pulls out of the kiss. We stay close for a moment, till he he lifts and kisses my forehead, completely retreating back into his seat.</p><p>I have to sit there for a moment, collecting myself, fidgeting my fingers in my lap. </p><p>"You ready to go in?" He asks, voice soft. </p><p>It's a simple question, that we've complicated with our plans.</p><p>I manage to look up at Clay, seeing his face is equally flushed and nod. He smiles, and swings his door open. I follow, and we both hop out. He quickly grabs my overnight bag from his backseat while I stand there, still a little gone. He leads us in, quickly unlocking the door. </p><p>Patches immediately walks up with an attitude, chirping and trilling, threading around Clay's ankles, demanding. I feel the tension melt, and sigh in relief.</p><p>Clay coos, walking to swing my bag onto a couch before immediately bending over to scoop Patches into his arms and kiss her face. I approach too, scratching her chin. She purrs, clearly pleased, but already looks bored. </p><p>He keeps her cradled, wandering off toward the kitchen while I awkwardly loiter in his living room. I hear the shake of food, and more cooing, then he appears again, cat-less. </p><p>Clay leans in the doorway leading to his kitchen and idly itches his stomach, staring me down, silently. I start to fluster, curling in on myself, struggling to keep eye contact. </p><p>Clay tilts his head, considering me, huffing a small laugh. "Wanna come shower with me?" He asks. </p><p>I nod. "Yeah— I— yeah—" I say, breathy, stumbling over my words. </p><p>I try to shake my nerves and walk over to Clay. As soon I get within touching distance he lands his hands on my waist, drawing me in close. He immediately moves his hands so one drops to grope my ass, the other cups my cheek, guiding my face up and pressing in for another kiss. I turn into liquid in his hold, everything warming. </p><p>Clay pulls back just barely and pushes his thumb out, dragging it along my lower lip. He forces my mouth to part and pushes the tip of his thumb in. I exhale, darting my tongue forward to drag it along the pad of his thumb, looking up at him.</p><p>"Okay." He leans in to press one more kiss to my lips over his thumb, before fully pulling back, smiling down at me. </p><p>"Let's go then."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. god complex (smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I hesitate, but strip as Clay starts the shower. I hover behind him, nervous, now fully nude. He turns, and his eyes drop immediately. I feel myself shy under the attention, my hands coming up to try and cover, something, anything.</p><p>"C'mere." He says, soft. "God, please. Come here." He takes a step toward me anyways as his eyes rake down my body, then he quickly tugs off his shirt.</p><p>Despite my nerves and embarrassment I listen and walk over to Clay. He grabs me, gentle, then spins me until my back is against his chest, skin to skin. I immediately press into him, rolling my ass in his lap. </p><p>Clay releases a pleased exhale, dropping both of his hands to my hips. He plants his mouth on my neck and starts to tease along my skin with his tongue. His hands roam, dragging along my body, up my ribs and across my chest, touches all feather light. </p><p>I arch in his arms, shivering from the sensation, every perceivable part of me warming. He finally presses a kiss to my neck, only seconds before he nips and sucks, leaving a small bruise. </p><p>I tremble, trying to not fold as Clay soothes his love bite with his tongue and lifts a hand to cup my breast. He drags his thumb along my nipple, just teasing it until it peaks, then pinches. </p><p>I shudder out a soft moan, thankful for the sound of running water. His other hand drifts, coming down between my legs. I barely have time to react before he pushes a single finger forward, dragging it through my pussy like it belongs there.</p><p>I whimper, head titling back into Clay's chest, swallowing roughly. We came here for a shower apparently, but so far all we've done is this. </p><p>Clay hums, pleased at the noises I'm making as he keeps his fingers persistent between my legs, teasing me. Suddenly his hand comes up from my chest and cups my chin, forcing me to look straight ahead, and turns us until I'm in full display in front of his mirror. </p><p>"Look at you." He says, low, keeping my head held in place, then starts massaging my clit. </p><p>I nearly buckle, mouth falling open for a high moan. I have to steady myself, hooking an arm around his and gripping his shoulder tight. I lift my other hand to my mouth and bite down, trying to muffle the noises I'm making. I manage to catch a look at myself in the mirror and see I look... absolutely gone.</p><p>I feel Clay let out a small laugh into my skin, before he bites down and sucks another bruise at the dip where my neck meets my shoulder. </p><p>I swallow roughly, everything feeling taut and intense before Clay finally removes his hand from between my legs and places it on my stomach. It's only a few more seconds before he completely pulls back from me.</p><p>I nearly fold, now unsupported, and clap a hand to his sink's counter to hold myself up. I can feel myself squirm, flutters already building in my stomach, arousal making me throb between my legs.</p><p>Clay looks at me, absolutely smug, lips twitching with a smile. "Shower's waiting." He says, tilting his head.</p><p>I just blink at him, still collecting myself. He hooks his hands into his waistband and finally rucks the rest of his clothes off. I can see he's already half hard and getting there. </p><p>I swallow nervously as he steps into the shower, then follow. I have maybe a second before he grabs me again, much more forcefully, and manhandles me into the same position under the spray of the water. Though, this time, he immediately pushes two of his fingers inside of me and curls them.</p><p>I nearly shout, arching back into Clay's chest. I moan as he starts to move with intent, dragging his fingers in and out of me with his cock pressed, now hard, to my back.</p><p>My hips buck, instinctively trying to ride his fingers. I'm not being very good, writhing in his grip, sensitive from the tension, whining out desperate little moans. Still, Clay seems pleased, smiling and watching with his head hooked over my shoulder. </p><p>I whimper when I feel the pressure of a third finger tentatively teasing at my entrance, before it sinks in with the rest. A shiver immediately builds in my stomach, branching up into my chest and out into my legs while I barely keep upright in his arms.</p><p>Clay makes another pleased noise, then drops his other hand between my legs, immediately going to my clit. I let out a soft sigh that turns into a moan the second he starts moving. My head falls back on his shoulder with a thump as my entire body arches into the sensation. </p><p>"Good girl." He praises, then presses a kiss to my shoulder. "It's like you were literally made to take my fingers, baby." </p><p>I scrunch my face up. "Shut ah—" I'm interrupted with another desperate moan as he curls the fingers inside of me and starts to drag them in and out, finger-fucking me. </p><p>The amount of noise I start to make is humiliating. My hands dart down to hold him at the wrist as I mewl around gritted teeth. I know I'm not going to fucking last. I know. </p><p>"Clay— fuck—" I manage to grit out, spasming in his arms as he keeps me held tight, almost aggressively pleasuring me, fingers only speeding with my movement and pleas.</p><p>I release a wet exhale, stomach clenching as I feel the building burn low in my abdomen. I whine, gripping his wrist, hard, to try and get him to slow down.</p><p>"Please—" I whine out, followed by a choked moan, eyes closing tight.</p><p>Clay just hums, sounding even more pleased, then kisses my neck again. </p><p>"I can't—" I moan and jerk my hips, orgasm threateningly close. "I'm not gonna last I—"</p><p>Clay rolls his hips against me, and finally moans. "Go ahead, let me see how fast you cum for me." He says, keeping his fingers persistent. </p><p>I dig my nails into his wrist and let my face twist, leaning into the building pleasure, allowing it to crest over. I let out an alarmingly soft and breathy moan, desperately pulsing around his fingers as I cum in his hold.</p><p>The softness only lasts a moment before I tilt into oversensitivity, moaning and writhing in his arms, body pulled tight, bucking my hips, trying to get away from his hand.</p><p>Clay lets out a small laugh, keeping me in place, dragging me through my orgasm with his... incredibly skilled fingers. After a few moments I finally start to relax, melting against his chest. My moans have gone small, whimpered.</p><p>Clay finally slows, removing his hands to slide them up to my waist and support me, probably a good thing. Maybe a necessary thing. My legs wobble under me, tremble coming from my thighs as I stand in his arms, almost totally lax. </p><p>He leans in and presses a kiss to my shoulder, slowly sliding his hands up my body. "One." He says, low, and I nearly sob. </p><p>I turn in Clay's arms, press my face to his chest, and collapse there, forcing him to support me. He doesn't disappoint, hands immediately holding me tight at the waist, both thumbs rubbing soothing circles into my skin. </p><p>I stand there, wordless, catching my breath, still moaning. If my first orgasm has me like this... I'm not sure how I'll survive this weekend. The day, even.</p><p>Clay seems to notice, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "You okay?" He asks, drifting one hand up to the back of my neck. </p><p>I nod into his skin. "Yeah I just... I need a minute." I exhale. "Christ, Clay, why does your hand move like that." </p><p>He groans. "I— don't make me say it..."</p><p>I smile into his chest. "No. Say it." </p><p>"Gamer finger stamina." Clay says with a sigh.</p><p>I hold back my laugh, lips twitching. "Minecraft pussy% world record." I say, deadpan, still nuzzling into his chest. </p><p>Clay immediately smacks my ass hard enough that I jump and yelp, still, he laughs. He keeps groping me until I find enough energy to bat him off and stand on my own, immediately going for the soap. I need out of this shower and into his bed while I can still walk. </p><p>I move quick, washing my entire body and face. Clay keeps touching me, but it's all light, simple affection. The second I'm done I try to hop out ahead of him, but he stops me with a hand around my waist. </p><p>"Get back here." He grumbles as I squirm, tugging me until I'm flush with him again.</p><p>"Clay—" I warn, legs already feeling like they're about to give out as his mouth plants on my neck. </p><p>"What?" He mumbles into my skin, continuing to move his mouth on me like it's his life's purpose.</p><p>I slap at his arm. "Lemme go. I need to get ready." </p><p>"For what?" He asks, like he doesn't know exactly what. </p><p>"Release me or we're gonna pvp irl, daddy." I say, very effectively killing the mood.</p><p>Clay immediately laughs, pressing a parting kiss to my shoulder and letting me go. "Fuck you, go. I'll be up in a minute." He says, leaning back into his own space and starting to wash his hair. </p><p>I take the chance while I have it and slip out, going straight for the towels, now that I know where they are. I nearly trip over my feet in my rush to get to the living room, toweling off. I grab my bag and bee-line upstairs. </p><p>I slip into the upstairs bathroom, rushing to do everything else I need to get ready to get in his bed. It seems like... we might be there for awhile. I brush my teeth, fix my hair so it's out of the way, and slap on some lotion. </p><p>I briefly debate on whether or not I should put any clothes on, and decide the worst that could happen is he immediately takes them off. I like watching him take them off. So, I put them on. </p><p>Thankfully, this time, I packed knowing exactly what the situation was. I pull on a matching set, black thong, black bralette, both lace. Nothing that fancy but... I doubt they'll be on for long. </p><p>I make my way back into his room. The second I step in I feel flustered thinking about what I'm here for, and how little I'm wearing. I end up poking around in his closet, finding a t-shirt, and putting it on to cover up before finally flopping over into his bed. </p><p>I pull out my phone. 10:33am. It's weird to think we have the entire day ahead of us. I end up on social media with most of my face tucked into Clay's shirt, trying to keep myself calm while I wait.</p><p>It only takes a few more minutes before I hear footsteps on the stairs and drop my phone to his nightstand. I start cuddling a pillow, watching the doorway with my heart in my throat. </p><p>Clay walks in, towel loosely tied around his waist, two water bottles in hand. He immediately closes the door, looking at me. </p><p>"You got dressed?" He asks, grinning. </p><p>I roll onto my back, stretching and lounging. "I didn't wanna be waiting around just... pussy out." I say, nerves settling. </p><p>Clay laughs, face scrunching up, and shakes his head. He strides over, dropping both waters, and unexpectedly steps back again. He closes his blinds and draws his curtains. He turns off all the lights then turns on colored ones I... didn't even know he had, to red. </p><p>I find myself smiling as he walks over to his PC, and starts some music, then sleeps his screen and walks back. He picks up one of the waters. </p><p>"Drink some. You'll need it." He says, gesturing at the other bottle. </p><p>I squint my eyes. "I'm not drinking it now on purpose." Then I sigh. "Red lights? Music? Romance is dead. Where's my... trail of rose petals and fourteen to eighteen lit candles?"</p><p>"Why fourteen to eight— whatever. Drink some water or I'll force you to." Clay says. </p><p>I tilt my head back. "Okay. Do it then." I say, staring up at him. </p><p>I watch Clay raise his brows and take a massive swig of water, wondering what he's doing. He brings the bottle back down, cheeks puffed as he holds the water in his mouth, and I realize. </p><p>"Clay—" I warn, and he struggles to not smile, slowly leaning in over me, getting into the bed, still holding the water in his mouth.</p><p>I plant my hands on his chest, pushing him back. "I swear to god if you spit any of that on me you'll be dead—"</p><p>He grabs both of my hands, pinning them to my sides and very slowly leans in dangerously close, settling on top of me.</p><p>"CLAY!" I shout, thrashing under him.</p><p>Clay gets close enough that our lips brush, even as I struggle to tilt my head away, then he swallows. </p><p>"Ahhh, refreshing." He says. "Why don't you have some?" He says, and pushes a bottle into my hand before flopping to my side, leaving a single hand splayed on my stomach. </p><p>I grumble, but finally listen, lifting onto my elbow to drink some water before I lay back down. I stay on my back, but turn my head to look at Clay, lifting a single hand to his face. I brush his cheek with my thumb, staring at his lips. He sighs, contented, and edges his hand lower to ruck up my shirt before laying it back on my stomach, skin to skin.</p><p>I swallow, then lean in, pressing a chaste kiss to his lax lips, and immediately lean back, feeling a different kind of warmth in my stomach. </p><p>"I'm really happy." I mumble, before I can get embarrassed and chicken out.</p><p>Clay immediately smiles, cheek warm under my hand. "Me too." He says back, soft. He searches my face and leans in to press a kiss of his own. I let my eyes flutter shut.</p><p>The moment is tender, but that tenderness doesn't last long. Clay presses into my mouth with his tongue, and my legs almost automatically lift and part, if only slightly. </p><p>He seems to notice, smiling against my mouth, and takes full advantage. His hand lowers, dipping into the waistband of my panties, two fingers dragging through my slick before pushing into me and curling. He angles his hand right, and his thumb presses to my clit as well.</p><p>Aw shit, here we go again. </p><p>I exhale, tilting my head back, breaking the kiss and squeezing my eyes shut tighter. "God, your hands..." I sigh out. </p><p>Clay chuckles low, actually slowing his movements until they're nearly teasing. He uses his free arm to wrap it under my shoulders and pull me into his chest. He rests his head on mine, leisurely playing with my pussy. </p><p>I relax into it for awhile, savoring the moment and the closeness, until it starts to get frustrating. </p><p>"C-can you— more." I say, looking up at Clay. "Like... faster."</p><p>His face slowly splits into a smile, and he almost imperceptibly speeds up. "Why? We've got all day."</p><p>We... do. That much is true. Still...</p><p>I buck my hips then roll, riding his fingers with a soft moan of relief. The second I do it, his hand comes to a complete stop. I whine, furrowing my brow and look at his face. </p><p>"Behave." Clay says, staring down at me, meeting my eyes. </p><p>I hesitate, breath caught in my throat. I tilt my head back, defiant, and I roll my hips again, eyes briefly fluttering as his fingers drag in and out of me.</p><p>It's like a flipped switch. </p><p>Suddenly Clay comes down, meeting my lips for a kiss that he immediately dominates, tongue sliding into my mouth. I moan desperately into the kiss as his hand spurs back into motion between my legs at a now punishing pace. The stimulation has me immediately keening, legs twitching against the mattress, stomach clenching.</p><p>Clay pulls back with a hard nip to my lip and pulls his arm out from under me, then roughly pushes my shirt and bra up so they sit above my breasts. </p><p>I nearly shout as his mouth connects with my nipple, both of my hands coming up to thread into his hair and hold on tight. He rolls my nipple with his teeth, sucking hard enough to hurt. I let out a small strangled noise, pulling his hair.</p><p>I moan and writhe under Clay, suddenly being dragged toward my orgasm at an alarming pace. He hums, seemingly very pleased with himself.</p><p>"Fu—u—u—ck." I moan out, body jerking in his hold, burn already close in my stomach. </p><p>Clay shifts his head, just to suck a bruise to my breast, then switches to my other nipple. His hand jams back under me, pressing flat to my upper back and holding me in place, closer to his mouth, his hand never slowing between my legs. </p><p>I swallow around a whimper, instinctively arching into it anyways. My stomach clenches tight, and I shudder into an orgasm before I can process that I am. Clay must notice by the amount of noise I'm making, and the way I'm fluttering on his fingers, because he pops off my breast and settles back to grin down at me, hand slowing inside of me to a leisurely pace.  </p><p>"Two." </p><p>I whine. Then, I inhale, steadying myself.</p><p>"Clay, please, I—" </p><p>I'm cut off by a gritted moan as he speeds his fingers back up, dragging them in and out of me. I'm still sensitive from my barely passed orgasm. I want to beg him for something, but don't know what. </p><p>Clay leans in, pressing a contrastingly tender kiss to my lips. </p><p>Oh. That was what.</p><p>I press into the kiss, chasing the softness and affection, mewled moans dripping out of me like liquid. Clay chases all of it, kissing just hard enough to push my head back again as his fingers fall into a new rhythm, still fast and hard. </p><p>I hate how fucking good Clay is at this. My breath hitches inside of the kiss, and I drop one hand to his shoulders, sinking my nails into the already angry skin. </p><p>He moans against my mouth, biting my lip in response. I squeeze my thighs, already trembling, holding his hand tight, briefly, before I can find the presence to relax again. </p><p>Clay finally pulls out of the kiss, leaving me on the mattress panting and mewling. </p><p>"You're so fucking noisy when I get you like this." He says. I crack my eyes just barely open, enough to see he's grinning before his head dips and he locks his mouth to my neck.</p><p>I want to say something... but moan instead. Clay's stimulation between my legs is starting to build again, third orgasm looming over me. Little does he know, every orgasm including this one and all after, will be my record. </p><p>I exhale, arching into Clay's hand, then clench my thighs again as the stimulation becomes rapidly overwhelming. He fights me to keep moving, and it's enough. I shiver into my next orgasm with a low, wobbled moan, holding him tight. </p><p>Clay keeps going between my legs, even as my hips buck and I writhe. "Three." He mumbles against my neck, before immediately pressing back in.</p><p>I cast my head back into his pillows, entire body pulling tight as I try to get away from his demanding fingers, head floating.</p><p>"Clay—" I manage to breathe out, begging. He hums, continuing to stimulate me without slowing.</p><p>I whine, gritting my teeth. "Please— daddy please." I beg.</p><p>Clay immediately slows, laughing against my neck. "That desperate?" He asks, pulling back.</p><p>I whimper and nod, feeling barely there. </p><p>I sigh in relief as his hand pulls out of me, lifting back to my stomach and resting there, just gently stroking my skin. I finally have a chance to breathe, body going lax. I turn my head, rolling over, and bury my face in Clay's chest, loosely looping my arms around his shoulders.</p><p>"Why are you so dead set on this..." I mumble, already feeling beyond spent. </p><p>Clay hums, moving his hand to my hip and pulling me close. "Just want you to know you have the best." He says. "And because I fucking hate thinking about Connor even touching you, let alone..." He grunts, unable to say it. </p><p>I whimper, mashing my face into his chest, feeling beyond guilty. I swallow, hesitating, but know I have to do it. "I have a confession." I mumble out.</p><p>Clay pats my hip. "Yeah? What?" He asks. </p><p>"I..." I hesitate. "I never even slept with Connor." I say, fast.</p><p>He immediately stiffens and pulls back from me, searching my face with a furrowed brow. "Wait, what? Why would you lie?" </p><p>I swallow nervously. "I um— I didn't— it—" I pause to breathe, steadying myself. "I didn't want to admit it was already you. Last week. Twice. That's the most I've ever finished with another person." </p><p>Clay blinks. "You're joking." He says, sounding in disbelief.</p><p>I shake my head.</p><p>"Twice? Before that it was..?" He asks.</p><p>I duck my head back into his chest, hiding there.</p><p>"You know how to count dumbass. Once." I mumble, muffled by his skin.</p><p>"Once?" Clay's voice pitches up. "Once?" He pulls me back from his chest again, searching my face like he'll catch me in a lie.</p><p>I pout, staring up at him. "Men are usually... not good at sex." I say.</p><p>I watch the click happen in Clay's brain as he melts into a predatory smile. Shit.</p><p>"Oh? So I'm..." He starts, prompting me.</p><p>I sigh, letting my eyes drift to the side. "Good at sex..." I say.</p><p>"How good?" He asks, looking absurdly smug.</p><p>I roll my eyes back into my head. "Fuck you." I sigh. "Very good." I mumble under my breath.</p><p>"A little louder for me." Clay says.</p><p>"Fuck. You." I hesitate again, rolling my head back on my shoulders. "You own this pussy, daddy. Is that what you want me to say?" I start, snapping at him. Though, he splits into a grin that I can't help but mirror. </p><p>"You're the God of gaming and this pu— mmpf—" My words get cut off in my mouth as Clay surges forward, flipping me onto my back and settling between my legs with a rough grind, immediately pressing a kiss to my lips.</p><p>He tongue-fucks my mouth until I'm a puddle again, then leans back, pulling at my shirt. He gets my shirt and bra off quick, then hooks his fingers into my panties at my hips and roughly jerks them down my thighs and off. He immediately follows, pulling his towel off. </p><p>Clay's cock is angry, neglected from his focus on my stimulation. He immediately grabs my thigh, roughly spreading my legs, and uses his other hand to grip the base of his cock and line up. </p><p>"Clay—" I barely manage to get out before his hips snap and he buries himself inside of me with a sated moan and exhale.</p><p>I immediately clench down on him and moan from the extremely sudden stimulation. "Clay— fuck—" I grit out around a moan, eyes shut tight, body immediately arching and going taut. </p><p>I only have another second to breathe before Clay grabs both of my thighs and folds me, man-handling me into position. I moan under him, trembling softly. </p><p>He chuckles low, pleased, and starts to move his hips, dragging himself in and out of me, his own moans met with mine. I feel his hand cup my face, and turn into it, nuzzling into the palm. I barely manage to open my eyes and stare up at Clay. He stares back at me, all heat, all confidence. </p><p>Clay's hand twitches on my face, and suddenly his thumb is pushing between my lax lips. I tilt my head back, and he follows. I curl my tongue around his thumb, humming low, desperate noises escaping my mouth as he snaps his hips hard enough we jerk up the bed. </p><p>I whine and let my eyes fall shut again, leaning into the sensation of feeling completely owned as Clay fucks me like a ragdoll. I feel my entire body bouncing, dragging along the sheets. </p><p>I try to stay lax, but my hips keep bucking, legs tensing. I manage to look up again, and see Clay's face tilted down, eyes locked between my legs, just watching himself slam inside of me. I moan, searching for attention, and he looks up again, splitting into a soft grin. </p><p>His thumb twitches inside of my mouth, collecting spit, then he removes it with a wet pop. His hand immediately moves between us planting low on my stomach, with his thumb pressed to my clit. My mouth falls open with a silent moan, and I gasp, eyes rolling back in my head. </p><p>I feel my orgasm slowly start building and twitch under Clay, all I fucking can do. In a moment of sensitivity, my hips jerk and I shiver, clenching down on his cock hard. It makes his movement stutter, a deep groan dropping from his mouth.</p><p>"Fuck baby." He says, followed with another immediate moan. </p><p>I drift into my building pleasure, having only a few moments where I liquify under him before everything becomes too much all at once. I grit my teeth, face twisting into a wild expression, head pressing back into the pillows as my entire body arches and tenses. </p><p>My body jerks into my orgasm nearly violently. I shout out an absolutely guttural moan, legs kicking out against the mattress, hands slamming down to twist into the pillow at my head. My eyes can't stay open, vision blurring at the edges as I lose control of my body.</p><p>Surprising even my own fucking self, I throb, and a massive amount of wet expresses itself. I actually squirt. Fuck.</p><p>Clay makes a wild noise, watching me, hips slowing. I have to look away as his eyes search my face. "Did you—"</p><p>I let out a small exasperated laugh between my sobbed moans, too afraid to look up at him, spent pussy throbbing as Clay fucks me through my orgasm. My entire body shivers, thighs trembling near uncontrollably where I have them now hooked around his hips. </p><p>Clay finally just grabs my jaw, and forces me to look at him. "Did you just squirt?" He asks, and my eyes fall shut in embarrassment. I manage a nod in his grip, swallowing nervously around my mewled moans. </p><p>"I'm s-sorry I didn't mean to— I—" I cut myself off with another high, desperate moan. </p><p>I only have a moment before Clay's hips slow, and he leans over, kissing me and pressing his tongue into my mouth with a moan, still gripping my face. I try to move my tongue with his, but it's difficult, brain still hardly functioning, not getting any better with his cock still grinding inside of me, only starting to speed up.</p><p>I pull out of the kiss, as my head jerks back into his pillows. "P-please, Clay I can't— I can't fucking take this—" I moan out.</p><p>Clay hums from above, bracketing me in with one arm, collecting himself as well. His hand drifts down from my face to my throat and loosely holds it. He leans in until our lips are nearly brushing. </p><p>"I said five minimum, didn't I?" He says, oddly controlled, hips grinding into me.</p><p>I nearly sob, nodding. Clay's hand tenses around my throat, and he leans in, pressing in for a slow kiss, our tongues dragging together leisurely. It takes him a moment to pull back, just until we're sharing breath. </p><p>"You've already done so good for me. You can do one more, can't you?" He says, breathy, quiet. </p><p>I whimper, feeling my body slightly relax. I nod and moan, all I'm capable of.</p><p>Clay hums, pressing in for another kiss, smiling against my lips, pleased. "Such a good girl." He says then starts snapping his hips hard enough our bodies connect with a slap.</p><p>The air is knocked out of me like a punch, heels digging into Clay's back. I've accepted that my eyes won't reopen, resigning to lose myself in the sensation of feeling like I'm just a hole for Clay to fuck. I flutter on his cock, clenching, the rest of my body numb and loose. I manage to lift my hands and thread them into his hair and pull, getting a good moan out of him.</p><p>Clay stays fucking me like it's his job, hand curled around my throat, until the pressure and warmth slowly starts to build in my stomach, again. I melt into the mattress, able to relax further the closer I get, lost in the sensation. </p><p>"Clay..." I exhale, barely managing to open my eyes, looking at him. "I'm close."</p><p>"Yeah?" He leans in, pressing a soft, light kiss to my lips. "Me too, baby." He says, around a soft moan, pulling back into his own space.</p><p>The closer I get, the more my body starts to tense up again, moans getting higher, whinier. I can feel it in Clay too, in the way he loses his rhythm, now just snapping his hips to chase his orgasm, with rough staggered thrusts. </p><p>My thighs start to shiver before my orgasm even starts, then it does, throb low in my stomach. I become a steady stream of moans as Clay's thrusts immediately become desperate. </p><p>"Ah— fuck." He moans out.</p><p>Then his hips snap rough, slamming his cock into me as deep as he can, before slowing to a stop. Low moans come from both of us as he follows me down and cums inside of me.</p><p>I pull his hair, guiding his head back to me and immediately press to his lips, eyes closing as I relax. It takes him a second to come to, then he starts pressing into the kiss with a contented noise, smiling against my lips. </p><p>I manage to squeeze Clay once more with my shaking legs before I relax, and drop them off his back to the mattress, melting under him. He relaxes too, settling on top of me with his full weight. We lay there for a moment, coming to, both catching our breath and trying to form thoughts again.</p><p>Clay moves first, pulling back just barely, so that he has room to speak. "You did so good, baby." He mumbles, then shifts down to kiss my neck and suck another bruise. </p><p>The hand he kept curled around my throat lifts to my cheek, cupping my face. He runs his thumb along my bottom lip idly, as his mouth trail kisses up my neck and back onto my jaw, then back to my mouth. </p><p>I nod, and let out a small laugh. </p><p>"What d'you mean? You fucked my brains out. I just laid here and took it..." I mumble out against his lips, struggling to blink my eyes open. </p><p>I relax my hands and start to play with Clay's hair, still slightly shivering under him, completely contented, though I know we have to move. The sheets are... yikes.</p><p>Clay laughs back. "Yeah." He kisses my forehead. "But you looked damn good doing it." </p><p>My lips twitch with a smile. I want to roll my eyes, but can't find the presence. I shift a little, feeling immediately gross.</p><p>"I'm— so sorry about the sheets." I start, getting flustered immediately. </p><p>Clay snorts, and kisses my cheek. "Don't worry about it. You can't control that, baby." He says. </p><p>He shifts his hips and pulls out, then wraps his arms around me, rolling us to the other side of his bed, away from our... bodily fluids. I settle onto his chest, burying my face in his neck.</p><p>"I know I just— I never— I wish I could've warned you." I mumble again, still feeling guilty.</p><p>Clay hums, hands soothing up and down my back. "We'll put a towel down next time." </p><p>I heat immediately. Next time. I keep forgetting that this is a thing now. I just get to fuck Clay now. I cover the building emotions with a joke. </p><p>"If I don't get to eight next time I'm ghosting you." I start. "This experience was only a 5 out of 10, average at best."</p><p>Clay snorts, and smacks my ass. "Shut the fuck up." </p><p>I smile into his neck, and decide it's only fair to suck a bruise of my own, knowing that if what I felt is right, I'm in for a big surprise when I finally look at myself in the mirror after this. </p><p>He makes a pleased noise, hands briefly tensing where they rest on my body. The second I'm done I settle in, closing my eyes, letting myself relax for a moment. I tell myself it's just for a second, that I'll get up soon.</p><p>I end up passing out because I'm only so strong, and Clay is warm and comfortable.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. all night (plot, fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wake up disoriented and exhausted, a weight heavy between my legs. I look down and see Clay settled into sleep, head nuzzled into my stomach, one arm curled around my thigh, the other around my waist. I realize that we're on the couch, and knit my brow. I have vague, fuzzy memories of Clay carrying me down here and putting clothes on me, but it isn't totally clear in my mind. Still, I can see that he's in boxers and I'm in underwear and a shirt that isn't mine.</p><p>I hear his washer chime, and quickly realize why he dragged us down here. My face immediately flushes with heat. Fucking oof.</p><p>Clay makes a small noise, holding me tighter and moving his head, readjusting on my stomach. I blink, looking down at him and warm. He looks... blissed out. I reach my hand down and card it through his hair, enjoying the moment. It makes my stomach hurt how happy I am like this.</p><p>To my disappointment he immediately stirs. Light ass sleeper... Still, he turns, slowly blinking awake, looking at my face, briefly yawning. </p><p>"Hey." Clay mumbles, and his hands start to move, stroking me at the same pace I'm playing with his hair. </p><p>He yawns again. "Sorry I moved us— wanted to knock the sheets out real quick in case we wanted to get horizontal again tonight." He says.</p><p>I roll my eyes. "So you want me dead, then..." I say, fake pouting. </p><p> Clay briefly hums. "Yeah. I think that'd be pretty poggers." He says with a stupid smile.</p><p>I reach down just to smack his shoulder as punishment. "You're a dumbass." I say sighing in feigned disgust.</p><p>I keep my hand on his shoulder, and start to idly scratch. He shivers under the touch, making small pleased noises. I smile to myself, watching him go lax on top of me and lift my second hand to his back. Double the scratching power. He shudders and literally moans. My stomach clenches with a silent exhaled laugh, hands briefly pausing. </p><p>Clay makes a noise of protest immediately. "Keep going, or I swear to God..." He groans out, gripping his hands down on me.</p><p>I laugh for real this time, and get back to work scratching him. The amount of time we spend like this is... absurd. I scratch Clay's back while he ragdolls in my arms, until I almost lure myself to sleep.</p><p>Clay's the one that finally stops it, grunting and turning to swipe his phone up off the floor. I catch a glimpse of the time as it unlocks. It's a bit past three, which surprises me, five hours gone like nothing. </p><p>I go back to playing with Clay's hair while he goes through his notifications, sending off a couple different things, reading a couple others. I briefly wonder what I did with my own phone, watching his screen over his shoulder. I snort as he types out a dumb tweet, and watch the proud smile spread on his face. </p><p>Eventually Clay drops his phone and yawns again, pressing his face directly into my stomach. "Up for some games or something?" He asks, muffled into my shirt.</p><p>"Ooh, yeah. What do you wanna play?" I happily wiggle under him. </p><p>"Fuck, lemme think..." He grins. "Have you heard of this game called... Minecraft?" </p><p>I freeze and blink down at him. "Die."</p><p>Clay laughs, making me laugh, then we both shoot up to rush off to his room.</p><p>***</p><p>We end up ordering food and playing games for absurdly long. It's already past 2 am once either of us notices the time. I'm happy we can still be like this, the reason we're friends in the first place.</p><p>I stretch, eyes closing, flopping down onto my stomach. "I can't play anymore. My eyes hurt." I groan.</p><p>Clay doesn't even turn to acknowledge me. "You're weak." </p><p>I toss my head back, releasing a guttural groan. I smile as it gets Clay to finally look at me, head craning over his shoulder, his brows furrowed. </p><p>"A-are you good?" He asks. </p><p>I start wiggling on the resheeted mattress and Clay's eyes laser guide to my ass. He raises his brows, blinking, and immediately turns back to log. Before the game even closes, he's up, coming right for me. I yelp as he lands on top of me, and start to giggle, shutting my laptop. </p><p>"What'd you wanna do?" He asks, giddy, groping my ass.</p><p>I get the feeling we're both... a little sleep-deprived. Though, I still feel energetic. I keep moving under him, shaking my ass in his hands.</p><p>I think for a minute, though, I know what I want. "D'you think we could go for a drive?" I ask, quiet. Something we used to do all the time when we were teenagers.</p><p>Clay, preoccupied with a game of grab ass, takes a second to respond. "At 2 am?" He finally asks, then slaps my ass.</p><p>I laugh and fight to turn in Clay's arms, despite his protests. Finally facing him, with my ass not facing him, I speak. "Yeah! Please?" I say, then pout my lower lip out, begging. </p><p>Clay looks down at me, face pulled tight in consideration. "You really want to go?" He asks. I immediately nod. "Why though? We were already in the car for a hot minute today."</p><p>I feel myself going soft, hesitant to tell the truth. I swallow, and try anyways. "Remember..." I start, then turn my head to hide my face in his pillow. "Remember the night before I left for college? And we drove around literally all night?" </p><p>Clay laughs. "Yeah, shit, that was like, three years ago."</p><p>"The entire time I was trying to convince myself to kiss you before I left, but I was too scared..." I hesitate, "So I want a redo where I actually get to." I taper off, starting to get flustered. </p><p>Clay stares down at me, just barely shaking his head as he searches my face. "You're an idiot." He says, then slowly smiles.</p><p>He moves quickly, lifting to sitting then swinging himself out of the bed. He pulls on jeans then shrugs on a hoodie while staring at me. "Fine. Let's go then." He says.</p><p>I yelp, nearly jumping out of the bed, excitement vibrating my body. I literally bolt out of his room and downstairs, almost falling on my face in my rush to get my shoes on. </p><p>I end up grabbing Clay's keys and dashing out to his car, loading into the passenger seat. I start his car before he even makes it out, already plugging into the aux. He eventually arrives, opening his door and leaning in to look at me before getting in. </p><p>"Are you good?" He asks, then laughs.</p><p>I clap my hands to the dash. "Hurry up! Let's GOOOO." </p><p>Clay wheezes and finally gets into the car. "Why are you so rowdy right now?" He asks.</p><p>I ignore him, queuing up music. I barely pay attention as he backs us out and gets us going on the road. My eyes catch on one of my playlists, and I have an impulse.</p><p>The first red light we hit, I turn in my seat and plant both hands to his thigh, tilt my head, and pout my lip. Clay's breath immediately hitches. </p><p>"Christ. Do you have something you'd like to say, dear?" He asks, eyeing me cautiously. </p><p>I bat my eyes. "Can you get out of the city, find a straight shot, and floor it?" </p><p>Clay bites his lip, hiding a smile. "You gonna play Tokyo Drift for me while I do it?" </p><p>A laugh bubbles in my throat. "You know that shit's already queued." I say then tap my phone, skipping right to it. </p><p>Clay hums, tilting his head to look at me, then revs his engine. I immediately scream, hands shooting up to grip his arm despite the fact that we aren't doing anything yet. </p><p>"CLAY. NO." </p><p>He shakes his head, fighting a smile. "I won't actually do it until we're out of the city. Calm down." </p><p>I exhale and relax again. I watch the light turn green, and barely see Clay's lips twitch, then he floors it down the nearly abandoned street. My heart accelerates and I shout, fear and excitement burning in my throat. </p><p>"STOP! YOU BASTARD—" I shout, and Clay starts laughing, gassing it harder. </p><p>I scream, and it gets Clay to wheeze. He lets off the gas to coast back down to a normal speed. </p><p>I immediately slap his arm the second I've collected myself. "Why would you do that?" I ask, despite the fact that I encouraged it.</p><p>Clay laughs again. "I just wanted to hear you scream." </p><p>I roll my eyes. "You got your wish." I say, pouting as he keeps laughing, proud of himself. </p><p>I talk again, still annoyed. "Florida man found bludgeoned to death with his own light up gaming keyboard." I glare.</p><p>Clay wheezes, and continues to laugh. "The only— the only keys left on the keyboard were the 6 and 9–" He barely says, laughing at his own joke.</p><p>I curl my lip, groaning in feigned disgust. "You're so—" But, the longer he laughs, the harder it is to not join, until I break, laughing with him. It's 3 am and it shows. </p><p>I finally calm down, and get my words out. "You're so male." I laugh, and Clay makes a noise of protest. </p><p>"Revving your little engine... making a 69 joke..." I shake my head. </p><p>"Y-you're the one who asked me to go fast to begin with!" He yells.</p><p>I purse my lips. "I don't recall suddenly... I don't know anything about that..." I say, turning my body toward my door. I sigh and look dramatically out the window.</p><p>"Get back over here." Clay says, then reaches over and slaps his hand down on my thigh, dragging my leg and me back toward him. </p><p>I try to maintain my pout, but just end up smiling, pleased. I collect my phone and get back to my important job of playing dumb music. I tap 'What That Mouth Do - BigKlit' and settle into my seat. </p><p>Clay glances at me as the lyrics start, face scrunched like he's tasted something bad. I fight to keep still, holding my smile until the lyric I want comes on. </p><p>I pull in a breath and sing, rolling my body in my seat. "If there was a God I would make him eat my pussy—" </p><p>Clay immediately shakes his head and shouts over me. "Change it."  </p><p>I stop singing to cackle, literally folding in my seat as we pull up at another red light. </p><p>Clay turns toward me, leaning in. "Put on... literally anything else. Please." </p><p>I roll my eyes. "If you hate this so much you have to tell me what to put on." </p><p>Clay hums for a sec, then leans all the way over, looking at my phone. "Look up Tokyo." </p><p>I go to type it and type "torky" instead. I blink at my phone for a minute, sleepy brain processing what I've done. Clay looks up at me, and I look up at him in dead silence, except the song still playing. </p><p>"Torky." He says.</p><p>"Torky." I say back.</p><p>We blink at each other then I look back, and type the word in properly this time, then search.</p><p>Clay hums and reaches over, tapping 'GOODMORNINGTOKYO! - Toyko's Revenge' As soon as it turns on I ooh, recognizing it. </p><p>"A classic." I say, turning to smile at him. He looks at me and grins back.</p><p>The light turns green. Distracted, Clay waits a second too long. The person behind us lays on their horn, startling both of us, then swerves around us before Clay even has a chance to move. </p><p>Clay lifts his hand in an expression of disbelief, watching, keeping a straight face as he taps the gas and starts to move. </p><p>I roll my eyes. "Tiny dick." I mumble. </p><p>We make it only a single block before we're at another red light, pulled right up next to the person that swerved around us. </p><p> Clay and I both stare at them. "Thank God you sped out of there. You got so far ahead." He says, and starts clapping. It makes me laugh hard enough I snort, and start clapping with him. </p><p>"You would've never gotten through that green without cutting us off." I say, nodding and saluting, then immediately go back to clapping. </p><p>I have a bad idea, and start rolling my window down. Clay immediately fights it, and my window stutters as we both tap the controls. </p><p>I pout. "Let me—"</p><p>"What?" Clay interrupts, glaring at me. "What are you going to do?"</p><p>I grin. "Roll the window down. You'll see." </p><p>Clay squints at me for a moment longer, then does. I immediately lean my upper body out of the window and shout to get the driver's attention.</p><p>"HEY!"</p><p>The driver snaps to look at me, and it's some greasey bro. I signal for him to roll his window down as well. He listens, cracking his window, though I can tell he's pissed. </p><p>"That wasn't very poggers of you!" I call out, then blow a kiss. </p><p>The man looks livid, and rolls his window all the way down to yell back. "Pay more attention, bitch!" </p><p>I look back at Clay with raised brows, and he immediately leans over me, nearly crawling into my lap, looking livid. </p><p>"HEY!" Clay shouts in a way that makes me clench my thighs. </p><p>Before Clay can get another word in, I hear the singer of the song start barking. I have an even more brilliant idea.</p><p>I start barking.</p><p>Clay immediately pauses in surprise, taking a moment, then grins and starts barking too. The dude in the other car goes wide eyed, and shoves his hand out his window to flip us off.</p><p>We both start barking harder, probably looking partially psychotic, until the light goes green and the other car peels off again. Once he's gone, Clay and I devolve into wheezing laughter, just sitting at the green light, slapping at each other. </p><p>It takes us a moment to recollect, but we finally do. We spend the next forty minutes acting equally stupid until we finally make it to an unlit backwoods type of highway. It's a straight shot if we turn left. We turn and make eye contact, smiling, and I change the song to Tokyo Drift again.</p><p>Clay nods once, and turns and floors it. I don't stop yelling while he stays silently focused.</p><p>"Okay! OKAY! POP OFF, KING!" I literally holler as Clay gets faster and faster than I expected. </p><p>I see a flash of 110 before I scream and have to turn hide my face in Clay's neck. I have both hands curled into his shirt at his waist, balling and gripping the fabric to steady myself. I feel the car start to slow as my heart pounds in my throat. </p><p>"The new GTA DLC lookin' a little different." I say, between heavy breaths, turning back to face the road again. Still, I keep my hands firmly hooked into Clay's shirt to steady myself.</p><p>Clay immediately chokes out a laugh for that, finally slowed to a normal speed. </p><p>I take another shuddered breath. "Can you find— can you like— can we park somewhere. I need a sec to calm down." I say, feeling my hands tremble with adrenaline. </p><p>"Yeah, yeah of course." Clay says, voice smooth and calm.</p><p>I know he has good stress management from his literal very high-stakes, high-performance life, but I am not built the same. I manage to just barely relax with my head on Clay's shoulder as he takes a couple turns down increasingly worse-looking roads, until we find a swampy looking lake with a gravel parking lot that's completely empty. </p><p>Clay shifts into park and I hop out of his car without another thought. I start jogging in place to work off the adrenaline. He turns his car off first, then follows me out. As soon as his eyes land on me and my impulsive physical activity he laughs. </p><p>I watch as he walks around, landing himself to lean on the hood of his car and watch me with a bemused smile. </p><p>"Join me!" I chirp, and he immediately shakes his head no. </p><p>I curl my lip, sneering at him, and keep going until I'm calm enough to not shake. I quickly approach, and lift myself to sit on the hood of his car next to him, kicking my feet. The air is wet, swampy, earthy, but we're far enough out of the city to see some stars.</p><p>I let out a happy noise and scoot up, then flop all the way back, laying down and looking up, beckoning Clay to do the same. He looks down at me, shaking his head, but smiles and follows, laying his head right on my chest. </p><p>I grunt as he lands. "You really just came down because you could put your face in my titties." Still, I lift my hand to thread it through his hair. </p><p>Clay nuzzles in deeper. "Milky time."</p><p>I hate him. I have to close my eyes, exhaling to steady myself. I make it only another second before I start thrashing and cackling, trying to force him off of me. He holds me tight, giggling where he has his face planted into my chest.</p><p>Our struggle has us wriggling across and up the hood of his car. I nearly get away, but Clay catches me and I yelp as he drags me back down into his chest. </p><p>We keep laughing until were settled again, though this time my head is on his chest and he's laying flat.  </p><p>Clay sighs. </p><p>"I have so much fucking fun with you." He starts, "I'm so happy right now because I'm with you." He says, soft, like an admission.</p><p>I feel my heart thump, skipping a beat, suddenly at a loss for words that aren't 'date me then'. I hide my face in his chest, feeling warmth bloom across my body. </p><p>It's silent for a moment, then Clay breaks it. <br/>"Would be a good time for that kiss you wanted."</p><p>I huff a small laugh and smile again, lifting onto my elbows and looking down at him. He grins, loopy and happy. I carefully lean in, eyes fluttering shut, and slot my mouth to his.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. and all morning, too (plot, fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We've kissed before, a lot, but this one feels different, tentative. The context of... this, is shifting, and I hope Clay feels it too.</p><p>Clay hums into my mouth, pleased, and lifts a hand to my waist, slowly dragging it up my back. I break the kiss to breathe. I pull back and look at his face, seeing him completely relaxed, almost vulnerable. I take a second to readjust, planting one hand to his stomach, and lean back in. </p><p>Maybe it's just because it's dark out, or just because i've been up so long, but I feel brave. I let my kiss go deeper, nipping at Clay's lip, and swiping my tongue into his mouth. He smiles and moans into it, encouraging me and leaning back.</p><p>I follow, nearly crawling on top of him to push the kiss as deep as it'll go without me literally crawling onto him. Clay's hand tightens on my back, and I find myself returning his moan into his mouth. I quickly realize I have to pull out of this kiss or I am going to physically mount him.</p><p>I plant my hand firm on his chest and push back, breaking the kiss. Clay makes a small noise of protest and immediately chases, hand darting up to grab my neck and tug me back down into another heated kiss. I whimper and breathe into it, not strong enough to stop moving against his lips. </p><p>I barely tug myself back again, only for a second. "Clay—" Another kiss.</p><p>"Clay ju—" Another kiss. I moan this time.</p><p>"Wait one s—" Clay bites my lip this time and I immediately whimper, melting. </p><p>Though, he does pull back. "What? Literally what?" He asks, voice pitched low, searching my face.</p><p>I shiver at his voice, only getting worse. "I— we— I can't kiss anymore. I'm one good lip bite away from swinging into your lap and riding you right here." I say, breathy, heat blooming on my cheeks.</p><p>It's probably a little too honest, but it's close to 5 am, and I've lost my filter. </p><p>I watch Clay's face go lax in surprise, then he swallows and clears his throat, shifting away to lay on his back again, blush obvious on his face. I have to laugh, and lean in to peck his cheek one more time before settling my head on his chest with my ear pressed over his heart. </p><p>I listen to the rhythm of it beating, then reach down for Clay's hand. I hold it with both of my hands, gently tracing the veins, splitting the fingers, and playing with it. I physically hear his heart thump when I finally thread my fingers with his and hold his hand, immediately lifting it to my face to press a kiss to his fingertips.</p><p>We've accidentally fallen into an appreciative silence, both staring at the minimal amount of night sky still visible, trying to savor this moment of closeness. It's funny to me how simple and easy having sex can be, but holding hands like this has us both frozen, scared, tender. For however much I'm afraid to make a shift, I realize he probably is too, and I'm briefly thankful we're taking our time. No matter how annoying it is.</p><p>The moment only lasts a second longer, before there's a flash of lights, and a truck towing a boat pulls into the lot. We break apart like teenagers caught necking, sitting up, squinting awkwardly. </p><p>I hear the crunch of gravel before I see two older looking men hop out, one immediately addressing us. "Good morning for some fishing!" He calls out, and I have to turn to hide my laugh in Clay's shoulder.</p><p>"Yep." Clay responds for us, and for that I'm thankful, though, I have to fight another laugh at how awkward it is.</p><p>"What're you kids doing out here at five am?" The man asks.</p><p>So it is 5am then... oops.</p><p>"Just— watching the stars, sir." I respond, then feel Clay turn to hide a laugh in my hair, probably because I'm a suck up. This guy definitely thinks we're teenagers that snuck out or something. Though, I don't blame him, we're acting like it.</p><p>He hums, and looks up. "Not many stars left to watch." He says, like he's caught us. </p><p>"Yeah!" I call out, "We were about to leave."  I say, then tug Clay's shirt, informing him that it's time to dip.</p><p>We both hop off the hood and make our way toward our respective sides of the car. </p><p>"You kids get home safe!" The man calls, and Clay responds with a tight-lipped awkward smile and a wave. </p><p>The second we're in the car my head drops and I dissolve into wheezing laughter.</p><p>"Stop. We're still—" Clay starts, fighting a laugh of his own. "C'mon, just, wait until we're on the road." </p><p>I shake my head, laughing hard enough it's gone silent, tears pricking in the corners of my eyes. "I can't— I can't—" </p><p>I hear Clay laugh, then swear, then laugh again. He starts the car and nearly peels out. </p><p>"Let's go— let's—" I start, trying to joke, but it devolves into me just laughing. It's not even funny. I'm just sleep-deprived. </p><p>"Let's go to a park and—" I have to exhale to steady myself, "Make out in the backseat until someone calls the cops on us." I say, joking about getting 'busted'.</p><p>Clay sighs first, then ends up laughing back at me, rolling his eyes. "We're not doing that." He chastises, looking a little grumpier than expected. </p><p>He leans over to place a hand on my thigh, just barely moving his thumb against the skin, and my laugh dies off. Suddenly, I'm silent again, head vacant of any thoughts except 'Clay hand. On me. Feel good.'. </p><p>God, I'm really tired. </p><p>I manage to collect myself enough to place my hand on top of his. I curl my entire hand around his index and middle fingers and just hold. There's... a tension, and I know Clay has something to say.</p><p>"What?" I ask, only because I'm too tired to stop myself.</p><p>Clay opens his mouth, but hesitates before finally speaking. "I think... I think we need to have a talk."</p><p>I feel my stomach drop. Maybe I've been pushing shit too far on my own and never even realized. I shift nervously in my seat. "Okay... then let's talk." I manage to steady myself enough to say.</p><p>He shoots me a glance, then tightens his grip on my thigh, like if he lets go I'll float away. "Sorry. I don't mean to be a killjoy." He says, then sighs. "I know we have this whole weekend still, but it sounds like we're not going to get to see each other for like... a month after this." </p><p>Clay starts bouncing his leg nervously, and I feel my free hand tense, fingers twitching to pick. "How are we navigating that? The month, I mean?" He asks.</p><p>I don't know if it's just my exhaustion, or if I'm just stupid, but I have no clue what he means. "What— like, what do you mean?" I ask, blinking.</p><p>He sighs again, squeezing my thigh hard enough it hurts for a moment. "I dunno. Are you talking to anyone else?" He asks, cautious.</p><p>Ah. I see.</p><p>"If you're asking if I'm going to sleep with someone else while I can't see you, the answer is no, I'm not. But if you're asking to sleep with someone else... I guess... you can do whatever and whoever you want. That's your choice." I say, effectively hurting myself and pulling away, brushing his hand off. </p><p>Clay makes a small stressed noise. "I'm not asking that. I'm asking for the opposite." He says.</p><p>I tilt my face back toward him, still a little lost, plastered to my door. "Clarify." </p><p>Clay tenses both hands on the wheel, jaw ticking. "You wanna label this exclusive? Not— dating yet but. I dunno." His leg bounces again. "I don't want to sleep with anyone else and I definitely don't want you to." He says, a little quieter. </p><p>A smile spreads on my face, even if it's a little annoying. "Yeah. That'd... I'd like that a lot." I say, still leaning away from him. </p><p>Clay finally looks at me again, face relieved. "Okay then." He looks again and shoots out to grab at me. "Now get the fuck back over here." </p><p>I yelp and laugh, following easily enough, settling with my head on his shoulder, his hand planted back on my thigh. We stay like that for most of the rest of the drive home, slowly mellowing out as the all-nighter catches up on us. </p><p>We barely get home before 6 am and shuffle inside together, going straight up into his room and collapsing on his bed. I immediately get light-headed, and blink heavily. </p><p>"Oh shit." I groan, blinking and trying to settle. </p><p>Clay grumbles, still fully dressed, like an idiot, but working on it. He's next to me in the bed, thrashing, fighting to get his hoodie off. I laugh at him, finding it much funnier than I should, devolving into a laugh where I have to gasp for air.</p><p>"What?" He bites out, muffled from inside of his hoodie and I snort. </p><p>"Stop— Clay I can't— hhhhhhh—" I choke out.</p><p>Clay finally gets it off, banging his head on his headboard in the process. He groans, now fully grumpy, as I only get worse. I'm even more light-headed from laughing. I slap out at him, wheezing a laugh. </p><p>Clay grunts and rolls over to grab me, the second he's recovered from thumping his head. He plants one hand on my waist, the other covering my mouth to get me to be quiet. I immediately part my lips and lick at his palm, giggling into his hand.</p><p>"Stop laughing. I don't want you to piss yourself. I just washed the sheets from what you did earlier." He grumbles.</p><p>I immediately lift my brows, both of my hands coming up to pull his hand off of my mouth. "That's rich coming from you, pissbaby." </p><p>Clay deadpans. "Pop off, I guess." </p><p>Ooh, he's grumpy. He started it. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt your fee-fees?" I ask, antagonizing him further, sleep-addled brain not quite caught up. </p><p>Clay drops his hand to grip my jaw and tilt my face up, forcing me to look at him as I just keep grinning, barely not cackling. He looks angry for just a second, then his lips just barely twitch. </p><p>"Keep being an asshole. I'll piss the bed right now as punishment." He says, still deadpan. </p><p>I immediately burst into laughter, hard enough that I go light-headed again. It's hard enough that my stomach hurts. </p><p>"I feel like I'm fucking high—" I gasp out, between desperately drawn-in breaths, just trying to get oxygen back in my brain.</p><p>Clay grunts, voice still deadpan, even though he's grinning now. "Oh yeah. Classic you. Always high." </p><p>I blink in surprise, barely catching my breath enough to speak. "Woah, woah, what's this about?" </p><p>Clay shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "You don't— you hate drugs." </p><p>"Says... who?" I ask, slowly, matching his energy.</p><p>He protests immediately. "Says you. You always used to freak out when we were in high school and— YOU! You literally ignored me for a week that time I smoked when you were over!" </p><p>I'm annoyed. </p><p>"Keywords: when we were in high school." I fold my arms and pout, bright mood significantly dampened. </p><p>He's not like... wrong or anything. I used to be very uncomfortable with it. But that was more of a 'my parents will end my life' thing than a 'I don't like this' thing. I guess one of the problems of knowing someone forever is forgetting that they can change. Still, he's only acting like this because he randomly got grumpy. </p><p>"Sorry for assuming. But you used to be vehemently against it. So, I don't buy it." Clay says, shaking his head and huffing. </p><p>"Why are you getting so tilted over this?" I roll my eyes and turn away from him. "Okay big man. Fine. You're so cool and I'm so lame."</p><p>Clay makes a noise and grabs me again, pulling me back to him, then leaning over me. "That's not what I meant." He says, voice low, glaring down at me.</p><p>I sigh, and despite my mood, let myself relax. I lift to press a kiss to Clay's chin to soothe him. "I'll smoke with you if you baseball it to me. That might improve this mood you're in as well." I say, barely not rolling my eyes, poking his chest.</p><p>The being up for 24 hours thing is taking its toll, on both of us. </p><p>Clay blinks at me, briefly looking surprised and excited, considering for a second. "I'll hold you to that. Tomorrow. I'm about to pass out." He says, finally calmed down, then flops over, settling to the mattress at my side with his arm slung over my stomach.</p><p>I'm confused. "Aren't you busy? Like all day?"</p><p>He hums. "Nah. I'll be done by like 8 or 9. Plenty of time." His hand drags up my side, then idly gropes my breast. It makes my breath hitch, though I think he's just settling in.</p><p>I decide to just ignore it. I turn in his hold, into his chest, and squirm my way up until I can whisper in his ear. </p><p>"Ah, jeans. Perfect for sleep." I whisper.</p><p>Clay immediately groans and retracts his hand before turning to his back, drowsily pawing at his still-on jeans. I laugh and shoot my hand down to help, noting how much more conscious I am than him. I shake my head, endeared at the sleepy noises he's making, then I pop the button open for him. In the low light I try to find his fly, and end up just accidentally palming him over his jeans.</p><p>Clay's hand immediately comes up to grip my wrist, stilling my movement. I look up, frozen, and see his eyes are definitely open now. </p><p>I laugh nervously, face heating. "Sorry I— I was just trying to help." I say, retracting my hand. I didn't really think about the risks involved in what I was doing. </p><p>I swallow as his eyes stay locked on me, slowly blinking, like he's trying to wake up, then he finally releases my wrist and lifts his hips, getting out of his jeans.</p><p>I'm warm now, humor, anger, and drowsiness all pushed to the side in favor of heat blooming across my skin. Clay slowly smiles, somehow attuned to knowing exactly how I feel. </p><p>I get dragged into Clay's chest, with his arms tight around me, and settle there, trying to steady my breathing, not sure what's happening. After a tense moment, he relaxes under me.</p><p>"I'm so tired." He mumbles. "But just know that I'll dream about acting on what just happened." He says. I look up and see his loopy smile and closed eyes and shake my head. </p><p>"You're dumb." I say back. Though, what I mean is: I like you, I'll dream the same thing.</p><p>I let myself relax too, closing my eyes, leaning into my exhaustion.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. friends (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I startle awake, hearing a loud bang, identical to the one I heard in my sleep moments before. I flutter my eyes open, flinching the second I'm hit with light.</p><p>I hear another bang and turn my head toward it, the sound of Clay shouting fuzzing in. I barely make out the shape of him sitting at his desk, and punching it one more time, before I slowly sit up, smacking my lips.</p><p>"Slam me like that desk." I groan out, stretching. </p><p>Clay immediately spins toward me in his chair with his brows raised. He stares me down, silently, and I just blink at him. </p><p>"What?" I ask, breaking first. "What are you doing? Why are you staring?" I try to peek over his shoulder, but just see Minecraft. </p><p>"Why are you malding over Minecraft right now?" I ask, face scrunching up in confusion.</p><p>Clay blinks one more time then leans back in his chair. "I'm on a call. We're recording a video." He says, brows raised. </p><p>I freeze up instantly. "W-with who?" I ask, like I don't know exactly who.</p><p>"Sapnap and George." </p><p>"Ah."</p><p>"Ah." </p><p>We continue to stare at each other. Until Clay looks slightly to the side, surprised. I can faintly hear yelling coming from his headphones that makes him briefly flinch.</p><p>"Jesus Christ. Stop." He says. It takes me a moment to realize he isn't talking to me. </p><p>Clay looks up to the sky, like he's sending a silent prayer. He taps his keyboard before his eyes land on me again. "Can you— can you please— come here and tell them we're— tell them we're just friends so they shut up." He pulls off his headphones and holds them out for me. I swing to my feet and walk right for him. I plop down in his lap, taking the headset and rolling my eyes. </p><p>"You want anything else, buddy?" I ask, mocking him, already annoyed at the situation.</p><p>I pop the headphones on as Clay unmutes, then holds my waist tight. I lean over his desk toward his mic. </p><p>"I'm really sorry to disappoint. We are just friends." I say, then immediately grind my ass in Clay's lap, met with an exhale and his hands tightening. </p><p>"Daddy! Slam me like that desk!" Sapnap immediately moans, blasted directly into my ear. </p><p>There's giggling for a second, then a softer, "Why are you lying for Dream right now?" Comes from George. "Nice to meet you, though, you're the girl he was talking about a couple weeks ago, right?" Follows. George gets it.</p><p>I hum. "It's nice to meet you too. I'm really surprised we've never met before." I genuinely smile. "You too Sapnap. I like your music taste." </p><p>I laugh into the mic, and keep rocking my hips. Clay's hands tighten on me until it's almost bruising. I can feel him getting hard under me. I should maybe stop, but I'm extremely irritated that Clay wouldn't just admit we're a bit more than friends.</p><p>"What are you—" Clay grumbles out, leaning in. I push his face away. </p><p>"Shut the fuck up, Clayton. We're talking." I say with a smile, and get laughter out of both of them.</p><p>"You know what? You should be 'friends' with me, too." Sapnap says, and my brows lift. </p><p>"I'll second that." Comes from George, then a round of giggles.</p><p>I hesitate for a second, but know what I'm going to do, just to stir the pot. At least his friends can see how ridiculous he's being, too. I turn to briefly look right into Clay's eyes, then turn back.</p><p>"I'd love to be friends. Ask Dream for my discord and we can definitely message sometime—" I say, glancing at Clay to see him already glaring. </p><p>I lean close to the mic and let my voice go breathy. "—Daddy."</p><p>Clay immediately sets his face and shakes his head. He leans forward to his mic. "I'll be back." He says, low, in a way that makes my stomach clench.</p><p>Oop—</p><p>Maybe that was too far. </p><p>Still... 'Tell them we're just friends'... ugh.</p><p>I briefly hear shouting from his headphones, then he taps his keyboard, I assume either hanging up or muting the call. Then suddenly, we're up. </p><p>I yelp, clinging to Clay's shoulders as he marches us directly to his bed, and tosses me onto the mattress like it's nothing. I exhale as I land on the bed with a thump. I look up, seeing his tented lap, and start to immediately laugh. </p><p>"What was all of that?" Clay asks, obviously irritated.</p><p>I steady myself by breathing. "Oh just a couple of guys being dudes. Pals being bros." I stare at him with lifted brows. "Friends being friends." </p><p>He glares harder. The point I'm making is valid, even if I do feel guilty for making it like this. I keep talking, just so I don't immediately forfeit. </p><p>"They seem like very nice boys. I can't believe you never introduced us before."</p><p>"This. This is exactly why I didn't." Clay says, looking only more annoyed.</p><p>"You don't want me to be friends with them, Clay?" I ask, then roll onto my back to stretch out.</p><p>My shirt must ride up without me noticing, because suddenly Clay's eyes flicker off of my face and down, his expression briefly softening. He collects himself and gets back to glaring.</p><p>"That's not— of course I want you to be friends—" he starts. </p><p>I tilt my head, interrupting. "Oh? You mean the way me and you are?" I ask, voice falsely sweet.</p><p>Clay glares at me, jaw ticking. I feel my lips twitch, and he blinks as eyes catch on it, expression melting into neutrality. </p><p>"You're messing with me." He says, then leans over me and plants a hand on my thigh, slowly sliding it up until it catches on my shirt and starts to drag that up with it, until he reaches my hip. I nod, body warming.</p><p>My breath hitches as we silently lean into eachother's space. I feel his breath as he speaks again. "All of that... was just to piss me off." He says, finally catching on.</p><p>I swallow, suddenly very nervous. "Yeah. What're you gonna do about it?" I manage to ask, blinking up at him.</p><p>Clay leans in until our lips are nearly touching, breath shared. I start to melt, feeling breathless. Then suddenly, he's off of me. I watch his back in silence as he walks back to his chair and flops down, immediately putting his headset on. </p><p>I hear the tap of his keyboard, then. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm back." A couple more clicks. "Also yeah, you guys were right, me and her are actually talking, so if I give you her discord you have to behave." </p><p>I melt into a smile and warm. I guess my tactics worked out in the end. I hear typing, then my phone dings with two friend requests. I'll have to employ them as backup more often.</p><p>"I'll tell you about it later. Now, can we please get back to the fucking video." Clay bites out. </p><p>Still smiling like an idiot, I gingerly lift myself out of bed. I pad up behind Clay, and wrap my arms around his shoulders, then lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, the 'thank you' implicit. We meet eyes for a moment, all softness and silent apologies, then I break away, slipping out of his room so he can record in peace. </p><p>I head downstairs, and go straight for the shower. I make quick work of washing up, and end up putting on more lotion. I get dressed with schemes in mind. I opt for a blue plaid high waist skirt and a white high neck crop top, no bra, no underwear. Then, just for the kill, a little bit of perfume. </p><p>I nearly text Clay a picture, just to be annoying, but figure he'll see it whenever he's done. No worries. I'll get him.</p><p>I go back to the living room, spotting Patches on the couch and scoop her up, laying down with her on my chest. I quickly open discord, accepting Sapnap and George's requests and shoot off a 'hi! 👋' to both while idly petting her.</p><p>To my surprise, George immediately replies. </p><p>'hey!' 3:27 pm<br/>'sorry about all of that' 3:27 pm</p><p>I shrug, deciding I might as well text back. </p><p>'it's my b' 3:27 pm<br/>'i didn't know he'd be such a pissbaby abt it' 3:27 pm<br/>'thanjs for backing me up tho, he did eventually speak his truths' 3:28 pm<br/>'thanks*' 3:28pm</p><p>I'm surprised how quick he responds.</p><p>'lmao' 3:28 pm<br/>'so how did you two meet' 3:28 pm</p><p>I hesitate for just a second. I'm not sure if I should tell him. </p><p>'aren't you busy rn?' 3:29 pm<br/>'like literally when i walked out you guys were recording' 3:29 pm</p><p>'ya but im not passing up a chance to get some dirt to harass dreamy with' 3:29 pm</p><p>I decide it's innocent enough of information.</p><p>'um... it's not an interesting story sorrt' 3:29 pm<br/>'sorry* :p' 3:29 pm<br/>'we actually met when we were like... kids' 3:29 pm<br/>'we rode the bus together and shared the same bus stop and shit' 3:29 pm<br/>'lame ik' 3:29 pm</p><p>'n o way' 3:29 pm<br/>'i see why he was acting so weird now' 3:30 pm</p><p>I knit my brows. What does that even... mean. </p><p>'what' 3:30 pm</p><p>'dont tell them what we were talking about' 3:30pm</p><p>My phone chimes with two notifications immediately. </p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>New Message<br/>'Stop.' 3:30 pm</p><p>Sapnap<br/>New Message<br/>'TELL ME WHAT YOU TOLD GEORGE' 3:30 pm</p><p>Then, I hear shouting and banging. I snort a laugh and lock my phone, ignoring all of them. I'm a bit at a loss for why George's mood switched up. But, I'll just ask him some other time when they aren't busy, and I have less of a chance of getting caught. </p><p>I turn my attention back to Patches, scratching her chin as her eyes shut and a small purr relaxes us both. Despite sleeping a solid... 8 hours... I could go for a cat nap. </p><p>"We don't need Clay. He's lame." I say to Patches, lifting both hands to scratch her cheeks, and she purrs harder. </p><p>"It's just me and you miss thing." I say, then sigh, letting my eyes close again, a stupid smile spread on my face. </p><p>***</p><p>I wake up, ravenous and catless. I check my phone, seeing a couple missed texts that I ignore in favor of swinging to my feet and wandering toward Clay's kitchen like a zombie. I've decided I want to cook us a dinner, like a real dinner. </p><p>I look through all of Clay's cupboards and his fridge... and find... almost nothing of any real cookable substance. I groan, rolling my eyes, and stand in his kitchen, pulling out my phone.</p><p>I immediately go to my messages with Clay.</p><p>Daddy Dream <br/>6 New Messages</p><p>'what did you say to them?' 3:45 pm<br/>'reply or im coming down to find out' 3:57 pm<br/>1 Attachment 4:11 pm<br/>'new lockscreen' 4:12 pm<br/>'i like the blue, tho its gonna look even better on the floor tn' 4:12 pm<br/>'also how tf do u sleep this much' 4:13 pm</p><p>The picture is of me and Patches, cuddled up on the couch, both knocked the fuck out. I inhale, face heating immediately. I have to push it to the side, and open Clay's fridge to take a picture of the empty shelves. I immediately text it to him.</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'BUY SOME GROCERIES WITH THAT YOUTUBE MONEY JESUS CHRIST' 7:05 pm</p><p>I make my way back into the living room, barely sitting down on the couch before I hear the thumps of Clay jogging down the stairs. I roll my eyes again, though, I find myself smiling. I watch as he nearly brains himself, swinging into the living room, coming right for me.</p><p>"You're finally awake."</p><p>I startle as he drops to a crouch in front of me. He unabashedly stares at my thighs, fingertips playing with the hem of my skirt. </p><p>"I—" Clay tries to start, but immediately stops, watching his own hand slowly push my skirt up, fingers dragging along and pressing into the softness of my skin. I dart a hand down to stop him, deciding I don't want him to find out about my undergarments— or lack thereof— until later.</p><p>He manages to drag his eyes away and up to my face, though my tits almost catch him too. "What the fuck was I about to say?" He asks, squinting at me.</p><p>I immediately laugh. "I dunno. You tell me."</p><p>Clay blinks, brow furrowed, but eventually gets it, like a lightbulb. "Oh, right. I ordered food while you were sleeping."</p><p>I smile, pleased.</p><p>He speaks again, "It should get here—" As if on queue, there's a knock. We both turn to face it. "—any minute." </p><p>Clay waits for a moment, then goes for the door. He swipes up our food from his front step and carries it directly into the kitchen. I stand up and follow him in. </p><p>"This one's yours." He says, the second I walk in, placing the container on the counter.</p><p>I approach. "Maybe you should buy some groceries. Like... it can't be healthy to eat this much take-out." I chastise.</p><p>Clay grunts in acknowledgment, leaning with his back against the counter, starting on his food. "Sure. Anyways, what'd you say to George earlier?" He asks, immediately.</p><p>I feel my face start to warm with pre-emptive embarrassment. "Um. He asked how we met. So I told him, then he said something weird, then we stopped talking." I say, looking up to search his face.</p><p>Clay is standing there, looking tentative, cheeks coloring red, no longer eating. "Like— what did, what, wha-what'd he say, exactly?" </p><p>I lift my brows. He's... sure nervous. "Something like 'oh I know why Dream was acting weird now' I think." I say, navigating to open my messages with George. I do, then speak again, reciting the conversation. </p><p>"So I said 'we actually met when we were like kids, we rode the bus together and shared the same bus stop and shit, lame I know'. Then, he said, 'no way, I see why he was acting so weird now'." I shrug and lock my phone again.</p><p>"That's it? Nothing else?" He asks. </p><p>I shake my head no. "I asked him what he meant but he didn't answer."</p><p>Clay nods. "Okay. Good." He says, quiet, and goes back to eating, looking... relieved.</p><p>I make a mental note of it, but don't push it any further. I decide to change the subject. </p><p>"You guys almost done?" I ask.</p><p>Clay nods, taking a second to chew. "We already are."</p><p>"Oh? Interesting..." I say, smiling to myself. "You got done quick." </p><p>Clay barely looks up at me, shoveling food into his mouth. "Yeah. It was a lot easier than I expected." He says, muffled around a bite of food. </p><p>I don't say anything else, and walk back out into the living room, settling in to eat. Clay makes a noise before following and doing the same. We eat in relative silence, focused on our food, both extraordinarily hungry from... just... not eating all day, until we're done. </p><p>We end up both just sitting, arms brushing. I start to get nervous, though I don't know why. We only sit for a few more seconds before Clay leans toward me, dragging his hand up my thigh again. </p><p>"You're really proving a point with these clothes, huh?" Clay mumbles out, before leaning in to mouth at my neck.</p><p>I inhale, darting a hand over to his chest. "What point is that?" I ask.</p><p>Clay just hums in response, working my neck with an open mouth, hand kneading my thigh and inching higher. I exhale, eyes fluttering shut. I want to lean into it, but manage to steady myself enough to drop my hand to cover his and stop him. </p><p>"Wait—" I say, breathy.</p><p>"What?" He says with a noise of protest, and grips his hand, hard. I moan from the pressure, wanting to push into it. I swallow, steadying myself, clearing my head. </p><p>I try to speak. "Wanna— fuck—" I'm interrupted as he grips again and swipes his tongue out on my neck.</p><p>"Yeah." He says with a laugh.</p><p>I whine. "You know that's not—" I lift my hand from his chest to his face, gripping his jaw and pushing him back from my neck. </p><p>I tilt my head back as I hold his face, squeezing his cheeks. "You're being a horny Harold. Calm down. We'll fuck in a minute. Let me speak."</p><p>Clay grins at me, looking loopy and happy. I roll my eyes, but can't help that I smile back. "What point? Are the clothes making?" I ask, breathless. </p><p>Clay hums for a second, then leans over me. He lifts his free hand, dragging his fingertips up the fabric of my skirt to my top. My breath hitches, just watching his hand move, playing with the fabric. </p><p>"C'mon." He mumbles. "You know you look fucking good like this, baby." </p><p>I feel heat bloom on my cheeks, flutters in my stomach, hands going loose where I'm holding him. Clay immediately leans in closer and plants his mouth back on my neck. </p><p>I take in a shaky inhale, eyes fluttering as I lose myself in the feeling. I lift both hands to the back of his head, threading them into his hair and holding on. He nips at the skin and my hips involuntarily rock, eyes fully shutting. </p><p>Clay huffs a small laugh, feeling me melt in his hands. "You wanna smoke before or after I fuck you?" He asks into my skin, all confidence. </p><p>I hate the way I like it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. during (smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Before." I barely manage to moan out.</p><p>Clay only leans in closer, locking his mouth to my throat. His hand drifts to grope me over my shirt, teasing the nipple through the fabric until it peaks. I'm conscious of his other hand on my thigh, feeling it inch higher, knowing he's a finger's breadth away from finding out exactly how gone I already am.</p><p>"You're a titty fiend." I sigh out, smiling, feeling him keep groping my breast.</p><p>Clay's hand on my thigh twitches as he huffs a small laugh. I rock my hips, waiting for him to finish closing the distance up my thigh. My legs instinctively part as his hand just barely makes contact, fingers light. He pauses and I feel him smile against my skin before he pulls back to breathe on my neck. </p><p>"What..." Clay starts, voice low, breathy, pulling back further to search my face. I blink up at him, tilting my head, slowly blinking back. I've been found out.</p><p>"Nothing...?" He exhales hard, then pushes his hand forward again, kneading me with intent, like he has to double-check. I moan, eyes fluttering.</p><p>"I-I—" I start, stuttering as his fingers dip, dragging through my pussy. "I just wanted to be ready." I say, sighing, entire face warm. </p><p>Clay hums and pushes his fingers further, playing with me, touch still teasing. "You're such a good girl for me." His voice is low, soft.</p><p>My breath immediately hitches, legs only parting further as an invitation. I moan, barely able to handle myself. I try to keep a level head, then whine, finding my voice.</p><p>"I thought we were gonna— ah—" My breath catches in my throat as he hooks his free hand into my top and pushes it up until it's over my breasts.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. We will. Just— I just want a minute." Clay says, muffled by my skin. </p><p>I moan and nod, squirming in his hands, pussy already throbbing, waiting for him. I get the distinct feeling we're not going to manage to smoke before. </p><p>Clay threads the arm closest to me around my back, resting his hand on the dip of my waist, fingers brushing my hip. He gently rubs, soothing me, then quickly lifts me until I'm swung across his lap. His head immediately dips to my chest, and he latches onto a nipple, lathing it with his tongue.</p><p>I arch into the stimulation with a small moan, hips automatically moving to grind against the hand Clay's still holding between my legs. He hums, pleased, and I feel it on my skin. </p><p>Clay's gentle for a moment, then rolls the nipple with his teeth as he simultaneously pushes a finger inside of me. I immediately gasp, hands darting up to hook into his hair and pull, trying to hold on. He soothes the bite with his tongue, going gentle again, curling his finger. </p><p>"Clay— fuck—" I feel myself throb, gripping down on his hand, already overwhelmed. </p><p>He smiles into my skin, and switches to my other breast, toying with me using the simultaneous curl of his tongue and fingers. He pushes in a second finger, fucking them into me as deep as he can, then curls, slow.</p><p>I sigh, relaxing, letting my head fall back with another moan. I start to run my hands through his hair, entire body flushed with heat. "God— you— feel so fucking good, daddy." </p><p>The daddy slips out before I can stop it, and I immediately moan again, embarrassed. Clay laughs into my chest, and pulls back, parting with a kiss. I whine, arching up toward him, desperate for a little more.</p><p>I blink up, seeing Clay watch me with a soft yet heated expression. Then, his hands tighten. He dumps me off onto the couch and stands, swinging to his feet. He's only up for a second, then drops to his knees on the floor in front of me. </p><p>He leans in, and plants both hands on my thighs, parting my legs as I sit and squirm, embarrassed. I know... exactly where this is going.</p><p>"Lift your skirt." </p><p>Still, my breath hitches as I hear it. I nod, a small noise escaping my throat as my hands grab and lift, bunching up the fabric, and pulling it up to my hips. I swallow nervously, now exposed, looking down at him.</p><p>Clay just stares for a second, then leans in, planting his mouth to my inner thigh and pressing a kiss. He drags his lips along my skin, drifting higher. My legs squeeze shut before I can even think about it, embarrassment taking control. He hums, lifting his head up and making eye-contact. </p><p>Though his face is flushed red, his voice is controlled. "You gonna open up for me? Or am I gonna have to spread your legs myself?"</p><p>I whine, shifting nervously, still tense. I try to relax, but my stomach flutters, legs keeping tensely locked together. Clay blinks up at me and grips my thighs tight.</p><p>"This gonna be okay?" He asks, low, noticing my vulnerable state.</p><p>I moan and nod at him. I want him to take control and just do it, so I can let myself relax.</p><p>"Verbal consent, baby, please."</p><p>I steady myself with a shuddered inhale, and manage to find my voice. "Yeah. Yeah. Please. Do whatever you want, daddy." I sigh out, voice small.</p><p>Clay laughs again, shaking his head, then leans down. He presses a single gentle kiss to my thigh, then grips, opening my legs and holding them open, despite the way they tense and fight to stay clenched together. </p><p>Watching Clay take control has my stomach fluttering with heat, desperate for him to put anything in or on me. I immediately whimper as he leans in to press a kiss to my stomach just below where the waistband of my skirt rests. He trails lower, dragging his lips across my skin until he's back between my legs.</p><p>I barely keep my eyes open to look at him as he turns his gaze up to me. He winks with a smug smile, then his eyes flick back down. He leans in, pressing an open mouthed kiss to my pussy. I nearly whimper at the stimulation, one hand immediately dropping my skirt to dart up and cover my mouth. Clay's hand follows mine up and he grabs me at the elbow. </p><p>"No. Let me hear it." He pulls back to mumble, then goes right back in for more. </p><p>This time, my mouth drops open with a uninhibited gasp as he makes contact. I flounder with my hand for a moment, nearly instinctively trying to cover my mouth again. It takes me a minute to collect myself enough to drop my hand to his head and thread it into his hair, hoping it'll stay there if I just hold on.</p><p>I pull Clay's hair tight, hips rocking as he curls his tongue around my clit. I sigh, trying to relax, but every pass of his tongue has my thighs twitching and trembling, until I'm just a mess of slick in his hands, mewling and begging for more. </p><p>Clay drags his tongue, swiping over my hole and briefly curling inside of me before dragging up and flicking my clit again, fast. I whimper, thighs starting to shake with the tension. My abdomen is clenched tight, small, desperate moans dripping from my mouth. </p><p>I arch toward Clay, trying to push the contact further, as far as I can. I roll my hips, forcing his tongue to drag through my pussy, pressed hard. I moan immediately and Clay's hands tense on my thighs, holding me in place. He pulls back, just barely, to speak.</p><p>"Relax. Let me take care of you, baby."</p><p>I whine and nod, immediately going loose in his arms. With him... I know I'm going cum. It's a question of how many, how fast. And he fucking knows it, too, cocky bastard.</p><p>Clay rubs small, soothing circles with his thumbs into my thighs, and presses his mouth back in, tongue moving slower. He keeps the pace until I'm liquid under him, holding my thighs tight as he focuses on my pleasure. </p><p>I moan, tensing my hand. "You feel— you feel so fucking good, I— I can't—" I sigh, head rolling back on my shoulders, as I feel the sureness of heat building in my stomach.</p><p>Clay hums, pleased, and continues to curl his tongue around my clit like he owns it. And I guess... he does. My breath hitches as I remember that. Exclusivity. It's me and him, him and me. </p><p>The burn in my stomach only grows further, want and pleasure mingling. </p><p>"I— Clay. I—" I moan, entire body arching with pleasure. "I'm gonna cum I can't—" </p><p>I feel him only press closer, before I start to crest over. My hips roll involuntarily, before my orgasm ebbs, low in my stomach. It's a slow one, drawn out, body going lax, everything warm and soft with pleasure. </p><p>I moan, soft and breathy, over and over, as Clay's tongue keeps moving, dragging me through my orgasm until I'm over-sensitive. I pull his hair as a warning, once, and he immediately smiles, lifting off and out, trailing kisses up my hip to my stomach as he goes. </p><p>I moan, then sigh out, petting his hair, melting into the couch. "Th-that... Clay, I—" I moan again, blinking, barely keeping my eyes open. </p><p>He pulls back far enough to smile up at me, then lifts to standing. "You like that?" He asks, then leans in over me.</p><p>I let out another moan, trying to reply, but he speaks first. </p><p>"I guess you must. With how fucking quick you always cum for me, huh?" He asks, confident, then leans in to meet for a kiss. </p><p>I barely move against Clay's lips, tasting myself there before he pushes into my mouth with his tongue and kisses me dumb. God he's so... he's so...</p><p>Clay pulls back, and I whine. I move to wrap my arms around his shoulders, trying to keep him down with me. </p><p>"I'm just going to get the—"</p><p>"Clay, please—" I pout, fighting to keep him close, just for a little longer.</p><p>Clay laughs against my mouth. "Okay. I'm here." He says, soft, resting his hand on my waist to stroke the skin there, soothing me.</p><p>I hold him as tight as I can, slowly coming down from the high of my orgasm. I hold him until it feels like I can breathe again.</p><p>"Okay. Fine. Go." I mumble out. I finally release him.</p><p>Clay presses a kiss to my cheek, then pulls all the way up to standing. "I'll be right back, okay?" He says more than asks, cupping my face. </p><p>I nuzzle into his palm, nodding. "I'll be waiting right here." I say, with a small laugh. </p><p>Clay smiles again, leaning over to press another kiss to my forehead. I wrinkle my nose at him before he steps away. My eyes immediately flutter down, staring right at his very obvious erection as he goes. </p><p>God, I can't wait to sit on it.</p><p>I spend a few moments, boneless, melting into the couch, just waiting for Clay to come back. When he returns he looks pleased, settling right down onto the couch next me, fingers flipping his pen.</p><p>"I just got this cart, so, should be good. I mean, hopefully." He says, then leans in toward me. "Do you want first hit?" </p><p>I laugh and nod, managing to get myself up to sitting. </p><p>Clay holds the pen out for me and I freeze. I search his face for a moment, then shake my head. He makes a small noise of confusion before I lift myself and swing until I'm straddling his lap. </p><p>I lean in close, and press a kiss to his jaw. "I want you to give it to me." I mumble out.</p><p>Clay immediately stills. "Oh— I— yeah. Of course." He starts, looking flustered. "Lean— lean back then, okay?"</p><p>I roll my eyes, and do, giving him room to take a pull. I swallow nervously, watching until he pulls back from the pen and beckons me in. I flutter my eyes. </p><p>"I'll probably cough." I warn. "I still don't smoke often." </p><p>Clay nods, acknowledging what I said, holding the hit. I lean in until our lips are brushing. I keep my eyes open to watch as his lips part, then inhale, taking the milky vapor into my mouth from his, then into my lungs.</p><p>I know I should sit back and hold, feeling it already burn, but can't help myself. My eyes close and I finish the distance between our mouths, sliding my tongue in with Clay's. He immediately hums, pleased. I want to moan, too, but hold it. </p><p>His free hand curls around the small of my back, tugging me closer until our stomachs press flush. I immediately grind down into his lap, and feel his cock press against me. I can't help that I moan this time, essentially blowing out right into his face. The second a little comes out I have to lean back and let out the rest with a few throat clearing coughs. </p><p>Clay immediately laughs, keeping me held, pressed tight. </p><p>"That wasn't bad, baby." He says, with a bright smile. "But c'mon, I know you can hold it longer."</p><p>I feel my own lips twitch into a smile, then roll my eyes. "I literally told you I was gonna cough."</p><p>Clay laughs again, then takes a pull for himself. He leans back, holding it, like he's trying to prove a point. I shake my head and lift both hands to his chest, then rock my hips. I see his jaw tick as I grind hard, essentially riding him over his clothes. Still, he keeps his noises controlled, holding the hit long enough my eyebrows lift. </p><p>Finally he releases it, then clears his throat, quickly trying to catch his breath. I don't let him. I lean right back in to catch his mouth for a kiss and grind down again. He lets himself moan into my mouth this time, hand on my back tightening to hold me in place as we explore eachother's mouths. </p><p>Clay's hands start to get insistent, and he pulls me off with a low moan. The second I'm settled back in his lap again he pulls my shirt off, then his own. I try to lean back in immediately, but he lifts a hand to my chest to stop me. I pout.</p><p>Before I can say anything, he lifts the pen and takes another pull, staring at me. </p><p>"For me?" I ask, batting my eyelashes like an idiot.</p><p>Clay nods, barely not losing it with a laugh, then jerks his chin to beckon me in. I lean in, smiling, and part my mouth right next to his. His hand drifts from my chest up to my throat, and loosely holds my neck as his mouth opens. He exhales as I inhale.</p><p>I take it into my lungs, determined to last this time. I try to sit back, but Clay keeps me in place with the hand around my throat. Still, his head dips, and he locks his mouth to my neck. I immediately whine, letting out a small amount of vapor, but keep my head. I hold, despite the burn in my lungs. </p><p>I hold until Clay leans back, pleased smile on his face. "Good girl." He says, voice low.</p><p>I immediately choke and blow everything out with a few rough coughs. Clay laughs, as I struggle to catch my breath. </p><p>"Why'd you say that—" I start, the second I can, and Clay laughs even harder. </p><p>"Well, you were doing good." He says, still laughing. </p><p>I pull back, annoyed, with intent, staring down at Clay's face, and rock my hips. His laugh immediately cuts off with a moan, and I feel a smug smile curl my lips. I grind again, hard, ready to reclaim some power.</p><p>"Hurry up." I say, smiling down at him. "If we weren't doing this you could be inside of me already."</p><p>Clay's breath hitches, and he swallows, staring up at me. "We could— we— we could just... fuck during..." He breathes out.</p><p>I lift my brows, face melting into a pleased smile. </p><p>Good idea.</p><p>I drop a hand to palm his erection. I hear him moan, then lean forward to kiss his neck, sucking a small bruise, our bare chests flush together.</p><p>"Then, why the fuck are your sweats still on...?" I ask into his skin, coy, palming him harder.</p><p>Clay immediately arches, hips briefly lifting us off the couch as he presses into my hand. I hear him take a shuddered breath. "L-let me fix that." He says.</p><p>I should pull back, and let him, but I like where I'm at right now. I especially like the way he's being so responsive. I grind my hand again, and drag my tongue up his neck to his jaw, holding onto his shoulder, tight. He moans, hips just barely moving to match my motions. </p><p>Clay's hand holding his pen threads between us to the hand I have planted on his cock, then pulls it off. His other hand dips on my back, under the waistband of my skirt, until he can grab a handful of ass and pull me into place as he lifts his hips toward me, grinding his cock, hard, between my legs. </p><p>It's enough that I finally pull off his neck, body arching into it with a soft moan. Once he's done, I lean back and lift up onto my knees to give him room. Clay passes me the pen to hold, then lifts his hips off the couch, just enough to push his sweats halfway down his thighs. </p><p>He immediately takes his cock in hand, stroking up the length while I hold myself over him.</p><p>"Lift the fucking skirt or take it off." He says, voice low, slowly pumping his cock.</p><p>My breath hitches, heart thumping in my throat, knowing I'm about to get railed. I get out of Clay's lap and up to standing. I drop the skirt to the floor and step out of it, before sitting myself right back into his lap. I feel myself heat with embarrassment as his eyes drag down my body.</p><p>Clay grabs my hip with one hand immediately, man-handling me into position over him. Still holding himself, he uses his hand to drag the head of his cock through the slick of my pussy, rubbing it on my clit, then resting it at my entrance, just teasing.</p><p>I smile around a moan, biting my lip. "Someone's desp— ah—" I don't get to finish.</p><p>I gasp as he grips my hip hard enough to bruise, and jerks me down into his lap, slamming the full length of his cock inside of me with a guttural moan.</p><p>I keen, eyes fluttering shut as he moans in kind, holding me still. Both of our hips rock against each other now that we're connected, but we make no other moves, just trying to collect ourselves. </p><p>Clay breaks the silence first. "Shit— you feel so fucking good." He moans out.</p><p>He then settles back into the couch, rolling his head on his shoulders. He lifts the hand that was on his cock to press flat on my stomach. I catch my breath, leaning back to watch the veins in his neck jump with restraint. I can tell we're both itching to move.</p><p>I oblige.</p><p>I plant a hand on his chest, my other hand still holding the pen. I move, rolling my hips and lifting to drag his cock in and out of me with a soft exhale.</p><p>He moans, hips immediately grinding back with the movement, muscles in his abdomen held tight. I keep my movements slow, shallow, just enough to make us both feel good, but not enough to pursue a climax.</p><p>Clay finally collects himself enough to lift the pen from my hand and take another pull, rubbing small circles with his thumb where his other hand still rests on my hip, helping me ride.</p><p>He holds the hit, face relaxed, eyes turned down, watching his cock fuck in and out of me as I bounce on it. I let myself relax, losing myself in the intimacy with small breathy moans accenting each thrust.</p><p>I watch as Clay's eyes drag up my body to my chest and rest there, watching my breasts bounce with my movement. His hand drags up my side until it rests high on my ribs. Knowing him, and knowing what he likes, I know he's going to lean in and get his mouth on my skin any moment now.</p><p>Before he even exhales the hit, he's sitting up and leaning in. He presses a kiss to my nipple then lathes it flat with his tongue. A low moan escapes my throat as I watch and feel him barely pull back to exhale the hit then immediately come back in to latch on, sucking my nipple, rough.</p><p>My eyes flutter shut, entire body warm with pleasure.</p><p>"I-I... I don't know if I'm feeling it yet—" I sigh out, "But, God if this doesn't feel suspiciously fucking good, daddy." </p><p>Clay immediately laughs, pressing a parting kiss to my breast before leaning back. I manage to open my eyes and watch him before he speaks, hips nearly slowing to a stop as I sit and grind in his lap.</p><p>"You're barely feeling it because you're only taking hits out of my mouth, and not holding them long enough." He says.</p><p>I laugh in return. "And that's the way it'll stay." </p><p>Clay shakes his head, staring up at me with affection plain in eyes. "Guess I'll just have to give you some more, huh?" He says, then takes a full hit.</p><p>My breath hitches as I lean in. His hand comes up to wrap around my throat again, holding me in place. I open my lips for him, and he slots our mouths together, exhaling the vapor for me to inhale, barely not kissing me. </p><p>The second I finish breathing in, Clay's tongue fucks into my mouth. I have to fight to hold the hit, moans demanding to come out as he rocks his hips under me, spurring our movement again.</p><p>I hold the kiss until I physically can't. I pull back and exhale without a cough this time, dragging in a rough breath afterward. I want to lean back in for more kissing, but Clay immediately lifts the pen and takes another hit for himself.</p><p>I decide to lean in, wrapping both arms around his shoulders to steady myself. I fully lift this time, riding his cock with purpose. Clay slowly blinks, watching me go, then lifts his brows as his brain catches up. </p><p>Clay exhales his pull and leans forward, dropping his pen to the coffee table behind me. He leans back with a loopy grin, lifting both hands to plant them on my hips and grip. </p><p>"Hold on for me." He says, voice low, then grips, and starts to snap his hips.</p><p>My eyes roll back into my head, hands on his shoulders going tight. Clay's fucking into me hard enough that I can hear the slap of our skin as it connects. One of his hands readjusts on my hip, and suddenly his thumb is circling my clit.</p><p>My thighs tremble from a combination of me being completely lax, and my building orgasm. Still, I want control on this one. I brace myself on his shoulders and take back the rhythm, roughly bouncing to meet his thrusts until he falters, going loose under me again.</p><p>I bite my lip and smile, looking down at him as I ride. He goes completely lax under me, low moans constant in his throat. I flip my hair back and start to chase our orgasms, determined.</p><p>Clay sighs, eyes nearly fluttering shut. "Atta girl." He moans out in a way that makes my stomach jump, then, "Make daddy proud. Make me cum."</p><p>I nearly have to stop, stomach fluttering at the words. I moan and steady myself, holding tight and getting my rhythm back.</p><p>Clay keeps moaning, face completely relaxed as he lays back and lets me ride, other than the thumb he keeps pressed to my clit as I go.</p><p>"C'mon—" He breathes out. "I know you can do it. Make me cum, baby." He says, still vocal. </p><p>Though, I'm a bit more prepared to hear it. </p><p>"Yessir." I sigh back, realizing I feel a bit more numb and relaxed than expected, legs not getting tired at all as I bounce on Clay's cock.</p><p>It doesn't take long before we're both desperately moaning, movements jerky, intentional, as we get close. </p><p>"Good girl. You're my good fucking girl." Clay moans out. "Just like that, just— just like that— fuck—" I clench and he keens, eyes falling shut. </p><p>Clay's hips rock into me, and he relaxes again. </p><p>"I'm so close..." I mumble out, a little lost in the euphoria of him under me like this.</p><p>He responds with a moan, mouth opening and staying open, then nods. </p><p>I take it as permission enough, and clench down, rolling my hips just right to barrel me into my orgasm. The second my pussy starts to flutter Clay lets out a low moan, hips rocking, as he cums in tandem.</p><p>It's almost... unexpected, but it feels amazing to lean into each other like this. He leans forward until our lips meet, then curls a hand around my throat, holding me in place as our lips slot together. The kiss is slow, tender, almost lazy, the both of us still catching our breath as we shift into the post-orgasm haze. </p><p>I completely melt in Clay's lap with him still inside, laying my head on his shoulder.</p><p>"Hnn...." I mumble, slowly blinking, realizing the getting high thing finally caught up to me. "That felt so good." I sigh. "You feel so good." I sigh again.</p><p>Clay immediately huffs a small laugh, hands dragging up and down my back before resting on my ass. </p><p>"Yeah. You're— you're fucking good at that. Shit, baby." He says, voice rough and deep, overspent from moaning.</p><p>I swallow, struggling to not close my eyes as I sit in Clay's lap, liquifying. </p><p>"I think—" I start, pausing for a moment to actually think. "I think... maybe it's because I just came but, I think I'm feeling it." I say, then relax, arching my body to press flush to his.</p><p>Clay laughs again. "Yeah? Me too." He says. </p><p>I manage to lift myself enough to look at him, and see he's completely relaxed, eyes closed, cheesing. It makes me smile back, and I lift to press a kiss to the corner of his lips and quickly pull back.</p><p>Clay immediately makes a noise, hands dragging up my body to reel me back in for a real kiss. I huff a laugh, and let him do it. As our mouths connect I moan, and his tongue overtakes the moment of vulnerability, forcing its way into my mouth.</p><p>I keep moaning into the kiss, swallowing the noises he releases in kind, until I decide it's time to readjust.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. stupid (plot, fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I sigh, then press my hands to Clay's shoulders, legs already half-asleep.</p><p>"I gotta get up." I say with a groan.</p><p>Clay just barely nods, eyes fluttering open before he slightly sits up to help me lift. He gropes my ass one more time before shifting his hands to my hips, to give me support.</p><p>I pull off of him with a sighed moan, feeling his now soft cock slip out of me. </p><p>I swallow nervously as I try to swing to my feet. I immediately get a head rush. That, in combination with my legs already being weak from getting pounded, makes me crumple right back down. I yelp, and catch myself, leaning into Clay's hold, one hand planted on his shoulder. He laughs, watching my struggle, still blissed out.</p><p>I notice his eyes drop, then follow with my own. </p><p>Ah.</p><p>I see his cum leaking out of me, drooling down my inner thighs. I laugh, while Clay continues to stare, despite being caught. </p><p>"You like the view?" I ask, teasing him.</p><p>Clay splits into another grin, still not looking away. His hands tense, and he pulls me close enough that he can kiss my stomach. Then, he does. </p><p>I squirm nervously, feeling his mouth drag across my skin. </p><p>"You're my little cream-filled donu—" I don't let him finish speaking, smacking the back of his head.</p><p>Still, it makes me laugh, and he laughs too. </p><p>"Shut up and die." I say with a groan, but hug his head, petting his hair and holding him tight for just a moment.</p><p>Eventually I realize how gross I feel, despite the fuzz in my brain causing me to lose focus. I lean down and press a kiss to the top of his head before letting go and stepping back.</p><p>I get to the bathroom before I process that I've been walking. Ah... shit. I blink the fuzz away, smacking my lips, and get in the shower, again, despite the fact that I showered a few hours ago. I just want the sweat and everything else... off. </p><p>Clay must hear the water running, because he suddenly appears, slipping into the shower with me. The second he's in he grabs me.</p><p>"Hi." I say with a giggle, getting pulled into his chest. </p><p>He makes a happy noise, then buries his face in my neck, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the skin there, staying otherwise silent. </p><p>Despite Clay's general handsy-ness, there's no intent to push it further. I finish showering first, and leave him to go get dressed. I put on the exact same shirt I had on earlier, but opt for soft pajama shorts.</p><p>I meander back upstairs to Clay's room and lay down. The second I dont have an immediate task my brain empties. I briefly think to get on my phone, but decide I don't care enough to do that. I just relax, taking a breather.</p><p>I'm staring at a wall, watching the highlight reel inside my head of Clay railing me on his couch 15 minutes ago, when my phone buzzes. It takes me a second, but I manage to lift and check it. </p><p>George<br/>
1 Attachment<br/>
'this ur man?' 10:56 pm</p><p>The attachment is a screenshot of Clay's dm's with George, the most recent message being two texts Clay just sent, a picture of his face superimposed on his Minecraft skin, then a text that just says: 'piss slinger on the loose'.</p><p>I have to close my eyes. What a dumbass. </p><p>'..................huh? i don't know him' 10:57 pm<br/>
'not me'<br/>
'wrong bitch'</p><p>There's a few moments before George texts again, another screenshot of their dm's. This time, Clay's first text is '😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈' then, 'try to run and hide' repeated over and over.</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>
'if ur still with mr piss slinger can u ask him to stop 🤪' 10:58 pm</p><p>I actually laugh, and swing back up to standing, shaking my head. I'm pleasantly floaty, but Clay must be... zooted if this is how he's acting. Before I can go find him, Clay appears in the doorway and comes into his room, towel slung around his waist. He starts digging for clothes.</p><p>"George is begging me to ask you to stop, piss man." I say, flopping right back down into bed with a laugh. </p><p>Clay makes a noise. "He texted you that? Betrayal." </p><p>He hops into sweatshorts, no underwear. I smile. </p><p>"We're matching! No underwear!" I say, not really thinking about how stupid it is until it's out of my mouth.</p><p>Clay turns to stare at me, brow furrowed. "You good?" He asks, expression twisting into one of amusement.</p><p>I sigh, rolling myself up in a blanket. "No." I think for a moment. "What do you wanna do with the rest of tonight?" I ask. "Minecraft?"</p><p>Clay hesitates, staring at me. "Actually, the boys are playing Among Us, and I was thinking of hopping on... wondered if you wanted to join?" He pauses for a moment. "Full disclosure, I won't be streaming but... some of them are." He follows.</p><p>I lift my brows. I'd rather do something with just me and him but... I don't want to miss the chance to see him trying to big brain while gone like this. </p><p>So, I waffle. </p><p>Clay's asked me to come on the server or be on stream before, but it's always been the same answer: no. At first I was busy, then I felt too shy, and now... it's just nerve wracking. His platform is massive. There will be people who hate my existence and personality... and there's nothing I can do about it.</p><p>Still, I'm a lot more comfortable with Clay now. I've always known he'd have my back, that's just how he is... but now... </p><p>I must take too long to respond, because he keeps going. </p><p>"I— I know you don't really wanna be on stream like that but promise they're all super super nice and—"</p><p>I interrupt him. "Clay, stop." He does, mouth snapping shut.</p><p>I smile, softening the mood. "Yeah. That sounds fun. I'd love to join. Can you text your friends really quick, double-check if it's chill?" </p><p>Clay's face just... melts. "They'll be fine— really?" He asks, all smiles. </p><p>I roll my eyes and nod, warming at how excited he seems about it. "Yeah. I mean I'm going to be awkward but... it sounds fun." I say, feeling my face heat.</p><p>Clay exhales, like he was holding a breath, and quickly approaches, flopping on top of me. I yelp, slapping at him, as he wraps me up and peppers my face with kisses. I giggle the whole time. </p><p>"Get— get off me freak—" I tease, still slapping at him. </p><p>He laughs, but pulls back. "You want me to go get your laptop for you? I can set you up on my desk and we can figure out the mic and—"</p><p>I shake my head. "I'm just gonna play on my phone in your lap." I grin, knowing it's stupid. </p><p>Clay blinks, lifting his brows. "Then I'm going to kill you first. You'll see my screen." </p><p>I pout for a second, then speak under my breath. "Piss slinger says what?" </p><p>"What?" He asks, mouth parted, brow furrowed.</p><p>I grin wildly. "PISS SLINGER SAYS WHAT?" </p><p>Clay grimaces. "I'm— I'm simply killing George." </p><p>I laugh, lifting my hands to his shoulders and tugging, feeling bad. "I'm sorry— I'm sorry— I'll stop."</p><p>I tug Clay down for a kiss as a consolation prize, and he melts into it on top of me. I realize I might have him... a little pussy whipped. There could be some truth to what Ellie was talking about. Maybe he's in as deep as me.</p><p>That's... overwhelming. </p><p>Before I can get into my head, Clay pulls out of the kiss and speaks. "Really though, thank you. I promise they'll be nice." </p><p>I relax, taking my own turn to melt. "I know, daddy." I say, smiling.</p><p>Clay splits into a wry grin, shaking his head. "They'll be nice to you, but I won't anymore. Not after that."</p><p>I yelp as he immediately comes back down on me, attaching his mouth to my neck. I laugh, squirming under him and gripping onto his shoulders. I get another bruise for my trouble-making, before Clay's up and off, lumbering over to his computer, idly itching his stomach. </p><p>I happy wiggle, then follow him up, plopping down in his lap and he connects in. I zone out as he says hello, and gets the room code. He shoots out a quick warning dm that he has a friend on mic with him. The messages from his group are quick, they all spam 'friend 👀', and nothing else. </p><p>Still, once we hop on VC, they don't mention it. I stay relatively quiet, naming myself 'The Slinger' and hopping into the lobby. I choose yellow, with the toilet paper hat. </p><p>Clay immediately sighs the second he sees me. "You think you're so funny." He chastises. </p><p>We're both... a little stupid normally, even worse when impaired the way we are. The first game starts, I'm imposter with Sapnap. I angle my phone just right, and play carefully. Sap, on the other hand, immediately misplays. He gets called out first kill and ejected. I have to stifle my laughter. </p><p>The next round, Clay's muted, talking out loud. "So it's definitely Schlatt. It's either Schlatt or he's stupid. It's Schlatt and he's stupid." He says.</p><p>I cut lights and wait, realizing it's just me and him together. He realizes it too as the lights come on.  He's playing poorly himself, given that he's... not all there. </p><p>He smiles, loopy. "Kiss me! Kiss my character!" </p><p>"Okay!" I say, giggling, then we mash our characters together, making wet kissing noises. I'm hovering my finger on the map. </p><p>Clay giggles back, then moves to leave. "Let's just stack for the game, easy dub." He says. </p><p>I melt into a smile. I lock the doors to electrical right in his face. He immediately punches his desk as I kill him, and I lose myself laughing. </p><p>I self-report.</p><p>"Where?" Immediately comes from VC.</p><p>I catch my breath, leaning into the mic. Clay taps his key bind for me, then leans back, fuming. </p><p>"Can you hear me?" I ask first. I'm responded to with a chorus of 'yeah's'.</p><p>"Okay good! Um..." I realize I'm very outnumbered, 1v5 at this point. I decide to make the best play I can. I smurf. </p><p>"Sorry, I'm new to this game... I found Dream... like... south. In the south room?" I say, playing dumb. Clay immediately makes a noise of disgust. </p><p>They talk me through it until we determine someone vented in and out, then pass to the next round. I have an amazing round this time. I vent kill two, then emergency button with four.</p><p>"I think it's Schlatt, I heard Dream sus him before he died." I say.</p><p>I get trust using Clay, and we vote him off. Just three left, nearly automatic win. I call reactor, and we run as a group. I could kill now and end it, but I feel like having fun.</p><p>I follow Bad and Skeppy in, and immediately jump into the vents right in front of Bad, then back out, then in, then out. I'm nothing if not toxic. I wait another second to see him panic, then kill him.</p><p>I immediately happy wiggle, and lean in, shouting into the mic as the results come in. </p><p>"ROLLED."</p><p>I listen and watch with raised brows, giggling to myself as the VC erupts. </p><p>Sapnap is loud, swinging in with a "YOOOOOOO!"</p><p>Clay screams over us.</p><p>"ACTUAL TRASH. ACTUALLY CARRIED. HOW DID YOU MESS THAT UP YOU ABSOLUTE FILTH. DIRT ON THE BOTTOM OF MY SHOE YOU—" </p><p>I interrupt him, leaning in to the mic. "EZ Clap, SoftNip." Clay punches his desk again, still yelling.</p><p>I cackle, gently slapping Clay's chest. "Dream's tilted over one round I can't—" I wheeze out, leaning toward the mic.</p><p>We all share a laugh as Clay and Sap shout at each other. I'm glad I got the win, feeling like it's helping me brush off my concern regarding being a total flop at this. Even if I lose for the rest of the night... that was fun enough.</p><p>The next round Clay is imposter.</p><p>"Your seconds are numbered." Clay says low.</p><p>Oops... he might actually be a little annoyed. True to his word, Clay corners and kills me, then big brains out of it. I groan.</p><p>"Happy now?" I grumble, looking up to see the pleased smile on his face. I roll my eyes, finish my tasks, then get bored. </p><p>I decide I need to readjust so I don't see his screen, otherwise I'll get killed instantly every time he's imposter. I get out of his lap and go toward his bed, grab a pillow and blanket, and throw them onto the floor under his desk, and settle in down there. </p><p>Clay laughs at my setup, stepping on my stomach. "Is this you pouting?" He asks.</p><p>I groan, slapping at his leg. "No I just don't want to see your screen anymore. Will the mic still pick me up down here?" I ask.</p><p>Clay grunts, suddenly focusing on the game. "Uh— I guess we'll find out." </p><p>I wait it out. I roll my eyes when Clay wins. </p><p>The second we're back in lobby I speak. "Can y'all still hear me?" I ask.</p><p>I get some 'yeah's, then George follows with a question. "Yeah but you're a little muffled, are you guys still together?"</p><p>Before I can reply Clay laughs, and responds for me. "Yeah, she's just under my desk now." He says. </p><p>I close my eyes, face immediately flush hot with embarrassment. I know he's loopy and not thinking but that statement was...</p><p>"Wait that's not—" He starts again but it's too late. </p><p>The VC erupts into shouting and laughter as Clay sighs and shakes his head. Once the raucous has died down, Clay speaks.</p><p>"Oh, come on. She's literally just sitting down there so she doesn't see my screen you freaks." He says with a chuckle, voice low. </p><p>I finally start to laugh, slapping at his leg. "You can't even be mad. You walked into that."  </p><p>After that, things are much more relaxed, the silence around the circumstance of me... being here, and being with Clay, broken. </p><p>We play until late, until I can't keep up anymore. I feel bad, but I have morning classes all week, and I need to work on my sleep schedule before it's irreparable. Plus... tomorrow is my last little chunk of time with Clay before we split for a month, I'd rather sleep and spend it under him, rather than under his desk.</p><p>I lift a hand to Clay's shirt, and signal him to mute. Once he does, I speak. "I think I'm done. I'm sleepy..." I say with a yawn. </p><p>Clay stares down at me, brow furrowed. "It's like... it's only 3am." He says.</p><p>I blink at him. "Only." </p><p>He opens his mouth before he can think. "Boo, we hate your pussy." He says.</p><p>I knit my brows, but laugh. "Maybe it's time for you to go to bed too, dear." I say.</p><p>I plant both hands on his thighs and lift to standing, stretching out. He taps his keyboard and starts speaking as I circle around until I'm behind him.</p><p>"I'm out for tonight, I'm tired." He says. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and relax.</p><p>I smile and lean in, until my face is next to his. "Ni-ni everybody!" I say, loopy, tired, happy that Clay listened to me. </p><p>Before we can dip, Sapnap gets in a stab. "Yeah, I bet you're real tired. I'd be tired too." He says, giggling. </p><p>I bite my lip, stifling a laugh. Clay doesn't even bother, just fully laughs, then hangs up without another word. He sits there for a moment longer, clicking around and sending a few messages. I zone out, dragging my fingers along his skin, up his neck, to his jaw. I play with his stubble, lightly scratching his face.</p><p>Clay lets out a pleased noise, and sleeps his computer, then settles in, tilting his head up to look at me with half-lidded eyes. I grin and lean in, planting my mouth on his forehead and petting his jaw.</p><p>We stay like that for just a moment, before I pull back, exiting with a kiss to Clay's forehead. His expression melts into bliss, and his hands dart up to tug me back down. </p><p>I laugh. "More? You want more?" </p><p>Clay closes his eyes and nods. I feel myself warm, and decide to go in for the real kiss. I tilt his head back further, and lean in until I can meet his lips. He's surprised for a moment, but melts into it with a soft sigh that I return. </p><p>I kiss him for only a moment longer, before I pull back and rest on his forehead again, still petting his stubble. </p><p>"You gonna shave this?" I ask, voice soft.</p><p>He hums. "Nah. I think I'll grow it out."</p><p>"Okay. Feral." I say in response, then finally pull back, immediately flopping into his bed. </p><p>Clay stretches, making a noise guttural noise that has me laughing, then swings to his feet. I make grabby hands, wiggling in the bed. He shakes his head, then comes down on me. </p><p>I settle in under him, threading my fingers through his hair, contented, relaxed. </p><p>***</p><p>I wake up early in the morning, earlier than I should be up, feeling sick, and stumble off the bathroom. The second I get in, I realize why. My period. I groan. </p><p>Great fucking timing mother nature. I laugh, at the hilarity of it all.</p><p>I drag my ass to my bag, fix it, and get back into bed in new shorts, pouting. Clay immediately makes a noise, dragging me into his arms as I try to slap him off. He keeps grabbing, laughing and holding me tight. I want to laugh and melt into it but... I'm upset.</p><p>I whine, pushing him hard.</p><p>Clay pulls back as though burned. "Woah— what? Everything okay?" He asks immediately. </p><p>I pout, letting myself relax, feeling bad I freaked him out. "No. Fuck today. My period showed up. I knew it was close but God. It couldn't wait a day?" I sigh, and keep pouting, whining again. </p><p>Clay shushes me, bundling me up in his arms, soothing his hands down my back. "That sucks." He says, and I huff a small laugh at that.</p><p>"Yeah. It sucks." I bury my face in his chest. "I'm sorry." I mumble into his skin.</p><p>He pulls back, face scrunched up. "Sorry? For what?" </p><p>I sigh. "It's just so stupid. No sex before one month apart." I say with a pout. "Cucked by my own body."</p><p>Clay laughs and shakes his head. "Nothing to be sorry about." He kisses my forehead. "I'm equally happy just to spend time with you."</p><p>Oh?</p><p>My stomach immediately flutters. The more time I spend with him the more I realize Ellie might really be right. Maybe... maybe, we're both in deep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. love language (smut, plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I thrum my fingers on Clay's dash, bored, sitting waiting for him to come out of the gas station. </p><p>Though, I was already bored before this. </p><p>I'm not sure why a two hour drive gets to me so bad, but, thankfully, there's only 30 minutes of it left. That's the only thing keeping me sane. </p><p>The rest of our morning was syrupy sweet, spent wrapped up in each other's arms, until we came to the conclusion that it was time to get going, no matter how much we both didn't want it. Clay's dropping me off and driving himself back today, a whopping four hours spent driving. That, I don't envy. Still, it makes my stomach flip that he's willing to do it for me. </p><p>I melt into a smile when I see Clay appear, walking out of the building. He holds up a tea for me, again, that I didn't ask for, shaking it in the air. I feel my heart thump in my chest at the act. It makes me melt the ways he shows me he cares.</p><p>And how much he cares.</p><p>I melt into my seat, entire body flushed with warmth. This dumbass just keeps worming his way deeper under my skin.</p><p>The door swings open, and Clay plops down into his seat, passing me the tea, cracking an energy drink for himself. I take it, holding it in my lap without opening it. I end up settled into my seat, just staring at his face, watching as he keeps moving, blissfully unaware of the staring contest I'm having with him. </p><p>He buckles and finally looks over, catching me. He melts into a smile. "What?" He asks, searching my face, cheesing. </p><p>I hold up the tea. "I just—" I shrug. "Thank you. Like really. I appreciate it." </p><p>Clay looks at me with a furrowed brow, lips twitching. "I mean— it's— it's— you're welcome. But it's just a tea." He says.</p><p>I grin and shake my head, then lay it on his shoulder. "No, it's not just a tea." I start, then turn to kiss his arm. </p><p>Clay shifts, pulling back, looking hesitant. "What are you on about?" He says, nervously laughing.</p><p>I roll my eyes, but let myself go serious. I lean forward, dropping my drink in the cupholder, then grab his hand, holding it with both of mine.</p><p>"It's the gesture." I say, voice breathy. "It's the fact that I don't have to say anything and I'm on your mind. Yeah, it's a stupid little tea, but you're saying a lot with it. You want me to be happy for nothing in return." I look at him, genuine, rubbing his hand with both of my thumbs.</p><p>I hear Clay's breath hitch, and see color start to flood his cheeks. He ducks his head, then barely meets my eyes. "I'd agree but... It's not for nothing." He starts, then grins like an idiot. "I get to see you smile."</p><p>I immediately split into one, overwhelmingly happy. </p><p>"That was repulsive." I say, still cheesing as I shake my head. He laughs in return.</p><p>I have to hide my embarrassment, burying my face in his shoulder. We fall into silence as Clay starts the car, and gets us back on the road, emotion thick in the air.</p><p>I keep playing with his hand, slotting our fingers together and mentally comparing how much bigger they are than mine.</p><p>I'm literally so soft for this man.</p><p>I look up at Clay's face, and he catches me, winking at me. I melt. I have to inhale, steadying myself. I keep staring at his face.</p><p>I realize I want to suck him off. I would like to fuck this man. One word: dreamy. Plays in my head.</p><p>"I—" I start, biting my lip, about to be stupid and speak my truth. Clay spares me a glance, blissfully unaware.</p><p>If his love language is gift giving, mine is acts of service. And I'm about to act some fucking service. </p><p>I drop Clay's hand then plant my own firmly on his inner thigh, rubbing with my thumb. I lean into his space, kissing his neck, then drag my lips across his skin.</p><p>Clay makes a small noise, shivering as my hand creeps closer to it's destination. "Baby, wh-what are you—" He says, cut with a moan as I make contact, palming him over his jeans.</p><p>I see both of his hands grip the wheel tight. </p><p>"I want to suck your dick. That okay?" I ask with a sigh, working his neck with my mouth. </p><p>Clay moans again, hips briefly rocking to press into my hand. "Y-yeah that's— yeah—" He moans and exhales as I attach to his neck, sucking a bruise. "Shit— yeah— please—" He says.</p><p>I pull back, smiling, then lay my head on Clay's shoulder. I watch as I carefully unbutton his jeans, then slowly unzip. </p><p>My hand is almost cautious as it slips into his boxers. He immediately moans as I make contact, stroking his quickly hardening cock inside of his pants.</p><p>"You make me so fucking happy." I say, squeezing his cock. </p><p>Clay just moans in response, melting in my hands. I press another kiss to his neck as I pull his cock out of his boxers, exposing it, and start stroking it.</p><p>I see his eyes dart down to look. He takes a shuddered inhale and I click my tongue. "Daddy. Eyes on the road." I chastise.</p><p>Clay grunts, clenching his hands and looking back up. I laugh at his immediate obedience, feeling powerful. I scrape my teeth against the skin of his neck where I've already bruised it, like a reminder. Finally I pull back, flipping my hair, and lower my head into his lap. </p><p>I hold his cock in my palm and lean in, just dragging my lips along the length. Clay immediately shudders. </p><p>"Fuck— this is— fuck— you're so hot." Clay barely says around a moan as I press feather light kisses along the length of his cock. </p><p>I have to laugh, small and brief, then open my mouth, swiping my tongue against the head of his cock. </p><p>Clay immediately moans, one hand dropping from the wheel, fumbling to gather and hold my hair out of my face for me. I look up and see him still staring out at the road, eyes half-lidded. </p><p>I can feel the tension, his overwhelming desire to look down and see me swallow him unmet. </p><p>Poor thing. </p><p>I finally get Clay into my mouth with a contented hum, wrapping my hand around around the base of his cock. He sucks in a sharp breath, hips twitching, trying to bury himself deeper as I hollow my cheeks. </p><p>I start to move, keeping tight around his cock, lathing against him with my tongue. I use my hand to spread my spit down his shaft, jerking off everything I can't quite get into my mouth. </p><p>Clay keeps being verbal, moaning and tensing his hand in my hair as I work toward making him feel as good as he makes me feel. The car is filled with the combined sound of me sloppily sucking him off, mixed with our moans.</p><p>Still, I'm surprised when he speaks.</p><p>"God. You're such a little fucking whore for me." Clay moans out, tensing his hand. My brain immediately stutters to a stop, a low moan escaping my throat.</p><p>Ah. I like that. </p><p>I like that a lot. </p><p>I whine, trying to move faster for him, eyes fluttering shut. </p><p>Clay moans, then lets out a low laugh, pulling my hair. "Yeah? You like that?" He asks.</p><p>I nod with his dick still in my mouth, nearly salivating with how much I want him down my throat. I realize he can't see me, and moan a "mhm" as well as I can.</p><p>Clay makes a pleased noise, loosening his grip until he's just petting my hair as I suck him off. </p><p>"I'm pissed I don't even get look at you. I'd love to see you— so fucking desperate to just choke on my cock." He says, then moans in tandem with me, rocking his hips against my mouth. It makes me nearly whimper. I like this Clay. This is an interesting Clay.</p><p>"Can't even make it a single day without my dick inside you, huh?" He asks, voice still low, the second he's collected himself.</p><p>This was supposed to be something just for him, but his words have me melting, submitting.</p><p>I relax, pushing myself until he's down my throat, full length of his cock in me. I swallow and he lets out a guttural moan.</p><p>"Holy— fuck." He bites out. </p><p>My eyes flutter, tears collecting in the corners as I move my tongue. Clay taps the back of my head.</p><p>"I'm— baby— I'm gonna fucking cum—" He warns. </p><p>I hum, only working my tongue harder. I want him to finish in my mouth.</p><p>Clay lets out a guttural moan at my unspoken invitation, hips lifting. There's only a second longer before his cock jerks. I feel his cum hit my throat and immediately swallow, then have to pull off. </p><p>The second I'm off I cough and breathe. I can feel Clay still petting my hair. I look up, seeing him hazily blink, going a solid 20 over. </p><p>"Slow down." I say with a small laugh. Clay swallows and nods, catching his breath, then does.</p><p>I wipe my mouth on the back of my arm, then lean in, putting Clay's cock away and redo'ing his fly. </p><p>There. I've acted upon my impulse.</p><p>Clay makes a noise, tugging me to come up and settle my head onto his chest. He pulls me close enough that he can kiss my forehead. </p><p>"God— baby." He starts. "You're such a good girl." He says, then moans again, blissed out.</p><p>I smile where I'm settled in his chest, relaxed and happy, knowing I did what I wanted. There's only about 10 minutes left of the drive, though, and that makes me sad. I wish I had just a little more time with him, however, we already discussed the fact that he needs to immediately leave as soon he drops me off, just because he has stuff to do once he gets home.</p><p>The rest of the drive is silent, Clay too cum-lax to do much speaking, and me too in my feelings to find something to say. It's still silent once we pull into my apartment's parking lot.</p><p>Clay pulls into a free spot, and parks. He immediately unbuckles and drops his hand down for his seat adjustment. He changes his seat to be all the way back, then pats his thigh.</p><p>"C'mere." He says.</p><p>I laugh, shaking my head, but unbuckle and climb over the center console into his lap. I barely have a chance to look up at him before he wraps his arms around my upper body, holding me in place to press a kiss to my cheek.</p><p>There's another moment of silence before Clay speaks, looking hesitant and oddly serious. "The plan still exclusivity?" He asks. </p><p>I nod. "Yessir." </p><p>He bites his lip, stifling a laugh. "Okay. Let's run this down. Next weekend you have to study... weekend after that I have that family thing. Then after that..." His brow furrows as he thinks. </p><p>I interject. "I have to work campus tours Sunday, and you have MCC Saturday."</p><p>Clay nods. "Right, right. We're free the weekend after though, right?" He asks.</p><p>I blink. "I mean... to the best of my knowledge I am. Are you sure you're free?" </p><p>"Yes ma'am." He says with a nod.</p><p>I start laughing at him for it.</p><p>Clay rolls his eyes and leans in, catching me for a kiss. I want to lean into it, but pull back, laughing again. He looks hurt.</p><p>I lift my hand to pat his shoulder. "Sorry— I— sorry— I just had your dick in my mouth." I say, feeling my face flush with heat. </p><p>Clay's brow furrows. "And?" He pauses for a second, "Lemme have my goodbye kiss, come on." He says, then leans in, meeting me for another.</p><p>This time I let myself melt, sighing into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut. We lock into the kiss for awhile, lips and tongues pressed and moving. There's an unspoken agreement to not break it, knowing the second we do it'll be time to go. </p><p>I kiss Clay until my lips are numb, surprised when he's first to pull out of it. Though, he stays close, pressing his face into my neck. I can feel his breath hot on my throat. I lift my hands to his hair, running my fingers through it, relaxing for a moment. </p><p>I don't want to be the bad guy, but my leg is in a weird position. "Okay." I start. I press a kiss to Clay's forehead then sit up. "Okay I'm gonna go." I say, soft. </p><p>Clay just nods, face settled into something alarmingly neutral. "See ya— not soon, I guess."</p><p>I roll my eyes, getting back into my seat as he readjusts his. I reach into the back and grab my bag before swinging my door open and getting out. Instead of closing it, I lean back down. </p><p>"Text me when you're home safe." I say, letting my voice go soft for a moment. Clay nods, lips twitching into a smile.</p><p>I pull back, and shut the door. Something about it feels... resolute, and emotions bottom out in my stomach. I walk toward my apartment, looking back to wave right before I go into the common area. </p><p>I'm... really happy. I should be really happy. We just had a great weekend, and we're making real progress on this... whatever we're doing. But...</p><p>I'm nervous. A month apart is a long time for anyone, especially something undefined and new. I'm getting in my head over this as I walk into my apartment. </p><p>It's empty, quiet, as I walk in. I'm a bit disappointed, knowing that being alone only gives me more of a chance to get into my feelings. </p><p>"Hello?" I call out, just to double-check. </p><p>I'm pleasantly surprised when I hear a noise come from Ellie's room, then her door swings open and she appears, yawning.</p><p>"You're back!" She says, excited, the second she can.</p><p>I grin and drop my bag, walking toward her. We slap together and wrap up in a hug, rocking back and forth. </p><p>"Did you miss me?" I coo, slapping her back.</p><p>Ellie laughs. "I missed your baking." I roll my eyes and slap her away, breaking the hug.</p><p>We meander back into the living room and slam down on the couch, kicking at each other.</p><p>"So how was your trip?" Ellie asks, once we've settled down enough.</p><p>I hum. "Uh. Good I think? I had a lot of fun, and Clay asked me to be exclusive. Still not dating."</p><p>Ellie raises her brows, clapping her hand to my shoulder. "What? That's big progress!" She says, then furrows her brow. "Why aren't you excited about it?" </p><p>I grimace. "We're too busy to see each other for a month. I'm nervous it's gonna fizzle." I say with a sigh.</p><p>Ellie nods. "Oh. Yeah. Just don't let it." </p><p>I snort. "Fucking, thanks. I'll do that." </p><p>"I'm just saying. Move into his dm's and set-up camp. You've been friends for a long-ass time— so— you can be cringe." She continues.</p><p>I consider that for a moment, then shrug. "That's true. How was your weekend?" I ask in return, wanting to get off the subject.</p><p>Ellie releases a devilish cackle. "I'm barely alive right now. I've been crossed pretty much all weekend."</p><p>I stare at her, blinking. "Sis..." </p><p>Ellie keeps giggling, until I laugh back. "We really said forget school, huh?" I say.</p><p>She immediately shouts. "AHT! Don't talk about all of that." I keep laughing at her. "I have five quizzes due tomorrow that I haven't even looked at..." She admits, and I nearly fold.</p><p>"I have an exam next Monday, and I haven't even looked at what's on it." I say. </p><p>We both stare at each other until Ellie breaks. "Wanna get drunk and do nothing with me?" </p><p>I grin and nod. "Yes. Absolutely."</p><p>***</p><p>I end up flopping into bed late, almost drunk but... not... quite. </p><p>I completely blew off everything I had to do, just to sit on the couch, and watch both Tom Holland and both Andrew Garfield Spiderman movies with Ellie and drink. A wise decision. </p><p>I finally check my phone, realizing I've been ignoring it the entire time since I got home. </p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>3 New Messages</p><p>'just got home' 5:03 pm</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'B)' 7:24 pm</p><p>This picture is of Patches in sunglasses, how he got her to do that... I'll never know. Still, it makes me grin, loopy. I take a close up shot of my face from below my chin, flash on, looking like an idiot. </p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'i miss herrrrr' 1:03 am</p><p>I'm surprised to get an immediate text back. </p><p>'and me?' 1:03 am</p><p>'i mis ur pp 😋' 1:04 am<br/>'the rest of you... take it or leav it i huess' 1:04 am</p><p>'?????????' 1:04 am<br/>'ur using me :(' 1:04 am</p><p>I giggle to myself sending my next text.</p><p>'yea gnow senh dick pic' 1:05 am<br/>'😎😏💯🍆✨🌝🙈🐥' 1:05 am</p><p>'are you like ok' 1:05 am</p><p>I purse my lips. I've been caught. </p><p>'i havw in fact been known to peprhaps have been dienking' 1:05 am</p><p>'oh clay i have an 8am class EVERY DAY' 1:06 am<br/>'i have to fix my sleep schedule for my 8am CLASS THAT I HAVE' 1:06 am</p><p>'🙈' 1:06 am<br/>'yall hear sumn?' 1:06 am</p><p>I keep giggling to myself, then, feeling rambunctious, continue.</p><p>'i knwo what i DONT hear' 1:06 am<br/>'the flash of ur camer as u take a send me a big fat dick pci' 1:07 am</p><p>It only takes Clay a split second to respond.</p><p>'im not replying to you anymore' 1:07 am<br/>'go to bed' 1:07 am<br/>'goodnight' 1:07 am</p><p>'🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺' 1:07 am<br/>'nyoooo come back i pwomise ill be good' 1:07 am</p><p>I pout, but true to his word, Clay goes silent. Not tired quite yet I get on Twitter, just to blow time until I settle down enough to sleep. I smile, seeing Clay also tweeted out the picture of Patches, just a few minutes after sending it to me.</p><p>I go to the replies, smiling with my whole face. My expression is quickly wiped, replaced by surprise. Some of them are nice, on-topic, about Clay or about Patches. Some of them... are not.</p><p>'drop the whiny bitch'</p><p>'god that whores voice is soooo f ing annoying please never play with her again'</p><p>'this is literally so sad i cant believe this'</p><p>'im fine with you dating or whatever but what she did to bad was literally so disrespectful and disgusting'</p><p>My brow furrows in concern. These are about... me. Specifically about me being on stream. Emotion grows in the pit of my stomach, something like dread, disappointment. </p><p>I blink rapidly, and try to shake the feeling.</p><p>It's... comments on the internet. I was prepared to deal with this, I knew it would happen. The fuzz of alcohol combined with my hormonal state makes it hard to get a handle on my emotions. </p><p>I need an outlet.</p><p>My spam account is pretty much just my college friends, Clay doesn't even follow it.</p><p>'ur in his dm's, he's in my guts 🤪'</p><p>Send tweet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. time (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I close my eyes.</p><p>I breathe for a moment, steadying myself.</p><p>God. I'm genuinely upset right now. Though... I can't tell how much of it is because of what I just stumbled upon... and how much of it is because of the delicate dance me and Clay are performing.</p><p>I hear my phone chime and my eyes immediately open. I feel giddy, excited. There's only one name I want to see on the notification. Sadly, it isn't him.</p><p>George<br/>3 New Messages</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'THIS U?' <br/>'LIKE ACTUALLY?' 1:16 am</p><p>I blink, steadying my vision, trying to read what he sent me. I quickly realize it's my own tweet from just a few minutes ago glaring back at me. </p><p>I blink a few times, eyes refocusing, trying to process.</p><p>'ya'<br/>'howndid u fidn that so fast u creep' 1:17 am</p><p>'i was just looking and saw it!!!!!!'<br/>'anyways accept my follow request 😱' 1:17 am</p><p>'fukc no' 1:17 am</p><p>I squint at my screen, trying to type my explanation. 'iodnt wan—'<br/>'i dornt w—'<br/>'id o—'<br/>I growl in frustration, slowly realizing more and more I might be drunker than I thought. The last few shots I took before going to bed are starting to take effect.</p><p>'what? why? i thought we were on track to being friends?' 1:18 am</p><p>I whine, wondering if I've actually hurt his feelings. I hesitate for only a moment, thumb hovering, then press call. It rings for a moment, then:</p><p>"H—hello?" Comes from the speaker, soft and surprised. </p><p>"I don' wan' a famous person follo-wing my spam account." I manage to finally say.</p><p>George laughs. "You called to tell me that?" </p><p>I hum in confirmation. "I could'n' type it... I tried..." I mumble back.</p><p>"Wait— speak again?" He says, and I know he's catching on.</p><p>"Yeah. I'm drun'k right now if that's what you're wonderin'." I slur back.</p><p>George laughs. "I was. If that's the case, I feel better saying this: you should seriously consider taking that tweet down before someone who doesn't think it's as funny as I do finds it." </p><p>I whine, knowing he's right. "Clay?" </p><p>George stutters for a moment. "Wh-what? No. He'd find that hilarious. No." There's a small pause. "I just mean there are some— there are some people in the replies to that tweet who would love to know your full name and address." </p><p>My breath hitches, and I realize he's right.</p><p>"It's up to you, seriously. I don't think anything will actually come of it but... better safe than sorry." He says.</p><p>I whine again, feeling tears start to build. I feel like a petulant child. There was a release of energy when I threw my fit and said it, but now I have to take it back. </p><p>I delete the tweet.</p><p>"Okay..." I mumble. "I deleted it."</p><p>"Good, good." George responds back.</p><p>There's a moment of silence, before I break it again. "Than'ks for havin' my back." I whisper out around a sniffle.</p><p>"Yeah. Of course. Anytime." He says. </p><p>It sounds so genuine, and it's for nothing in return. He's just... a real friend of Clay's, and that kindness is being extended to me. I sniffle again— and the flood gates burst. My voice wobbles with a drawn out whine, and I start to sob.</p><p>"Woah— woah— I'm? I'm sorry? Did I—?" George immediately starts. </p><p>I shake my head, despite the fact that he can't see me. "No— no it's— it's not you—" I manage to choke out around my tears.</p><p>"Oh." </p><p>We descend into another silence where it's just me crying, trying to find the resolve to hang up on George. But... the company is nice, steadying. Still... it's unfair to him.</p><p>"You can han'g up on me." I whimper out, not wanting to be the one to pull the trigger.</p><p>"I—" George starts with a heavy breath. "Are you okay?" He asks, soft. It surprises me. </p><p>I shake my head, even though he can't see it, fighting to find my words. "No. I'm doin'g ba-ad." I say. </p><p>There's another moment of silence, then. "Do you want to talk about it?" </p><p>I sniffle, feeling like an absolute asshole for pushing this onto George, but I'm drunk enough to not care, and he's being... an astonishingly good friend right now. </p><p>"I can't see Clay for a month..." I mumble, taking a shaky exhale. "What if he gets bored of me without the sex? What if I fuck it up? What if we never date?" I say, strangely coherent. </p><p>Just saying it is enough to lift some of the weight from my chest. I know I've said it before, but with the alcohol I finally let myself be vulnerable enough to feel it, too. </p><p>God I feel like such a baby.</p><p>George... laughs. </p><p>"He's not going to get bored. He's been waiting like... his whole life to shoot his shot with you." </p><p>I blink slowly, wrapping my head around the statement. I want to argue with George, point to the contrary evidence, say something smart, instead...</p><p>"That's cap." </p><p>George laughs again. "It's not!" A small pause. </p><p>"Cap." </p><p>Georges makes a noise of frustration between his laughs. "I promise you it's not."</p><p>"I promise you it is!" I say, then sigh. "I've already made it clear I've been in'to him a long time... he told me he wasn' ready for a relationship." </p><p>"He told you, WHAT?" George immediately asks, sounding surprised. "So he's just an idiot, then." </p><p>I inhale in surprise, finally remembering the interaction I had with George earlier. </p><p>"What did you mean when you said 'I know why Dream's been acting so weird now'?" I ask, voice soft, genuine.</p><p>There's an extended silence, before I hear George take a steadying breath. "I'm betraying Dream right now but... it seems like he might need my help on this one—"</p><p>I interrupt him, scared to hear what comes next, "Wait— I'm sorry, I'm bein' annoying..." I start, feeling my heart thump in my throat. </p><p>George speaks again. "Believe me when I tell you... I've been plenty annoyed hearing about the cute girl Dream's been in love with for the past... as long I've known him. I almost prefer this."</p><p>There's an extended silence, my heart pounding in my chest. </p><p>"Imagine my surprise when I find out he's finally sleeping with her and never even asked her out." </p><p>My breath hitches. </p><p>"He— he told me— he told me he was never into me like that before this because it would make him feel creepy when I—"</p><p>"He was lying." George interrupts.</p><p>I whine again, swallowing around my tongue. "Why would he do that?" I ask, voice small.</p><p>"He's an immature dumbfuck." </p><p>I let out a wet laugh, and George laughs with me. I wonder how much truth there is to what George is saying. I have to steady myself, leaning away from believing it whole heartedly... because if I open myself up, and it's not 100% true... I think I might break.</p><p>"If you're lying I'm flying to your country to beat you to death with my pure unbridled, unleashed, rage." I mumble into the phone.</p><p>"UNCHAINED CHAOS!" He says, with a deep voice. A giggle bursts from my throat.</p><p>I can hear the smile in George's voice as he speaks again. "I mean, believe what you want, just know he's always called you his end-game dreamgirl." A small pause, as the words leave me breathless. "He always said, 'I have a plan, I have a plan' and we'd laugh at him for it. I just can't believe he's... doing whatever— this is."</p><p>I laugh for that. "Yeah. It doesn't feel like much of a plan." I take a breath. "Maybe it's a long-term plan to make me hate him so we can have an enemies to lovers arc." </p><p>George laughs again. "No, no. Friends to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers arc." </p><p>I smile like an idiot, noticing the overwhelming urge to cry has faded. "Then to friends to enemies to friends to rivals at some point and back to friends then finally lovers."</p><p>There's a pause where we just laugh, until the laughter settles back into a more comfortable silence.</p><p>"Thank you." I mumble. "You're a good guy. I'm sorry I made you go behin' Clay's back like this." </p><p>"He'll be fine with it once you get together. I'll claim full responsibility for the relationship." He quips.</p><p>I finally relax into my bed, a lot more... settled. </p><p>"G'nite, George. You've saved Clay's ass." I mumble, actually feeling sleeping. </p><p>"'Night, Dream's dreamgirl." He says back, and the call ends.</p><p>I'm thankful George has a couple years on Clay. The experience and maturity... was very needed, even if he sometimes acts younger. </p><p>My brain wants to go 100 miles per hour, flitting around the new information that I'm apparently Clay's 'end-game dreamgirl' and he's just being a little dumbass for some unknown reason. </p><p>I try to extend empathy. He really did just get out of a relationship, even if it's true that he's been into me forever, especially if it's true, more time won't hurt anyone. </p><p>If it's going to happen, it will. I just have to... wait. Though, I'm now a lot more hopeful, secure. </p><p>I fall asleep.</p><p>***</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>2 New Messages</p><p>'RATCHET SATURN GIRL - Aminé'<br/>'made me think of u' 4:15 pm</p><p>I stare at my phone as I walk back into my apartment, coming home from picking up my now fixed car.</p><p>I haven't texted Clay again since last night, partially because I was busy in class all day, partially because I've been busy in my head all day. </p><p>I don't have a clear memory of exactly what George and I talked about when I was drunk, but I've got the general idea. Something something, Clay's in love with me, something something, Clay's a fucking idiot. </p><p>Easy enough points to agree with. Thank you George.</p><p>I bite my lip, going straight to my room to lay down. The second I'm in bed I tap the Spotify link and listen. I immediately roll my eyes at the first lyrics, annoyed, then the next few lines play. </p><p>I like when she call me daddy, <br/>and she look back (back)</p><p>I like when shawty give me head on the drive back</p><p>I nearly scream, losing myself laughing. </p><p>Once I've collected myself, I type out 'you're dead to me' but before I can send it, the song changes tone. </p><p>Excuse me m'am<br/>You're the one that I need<br/>Fell in love, you cut me deep</p><p>I blink in surprise at the difference in the lyrics, even more surprised he'd send this to me so boldly. I delete my text, swallowing nervously, and save the song to my library. </p><p>Now I'm conflicted, not knowing what to say in response. I select a random lyric from the song that is clearly not the one he's referencing, trying to cut the tension.</p><p>'i like them forty-inch nails?'<br/>'so you want me to get my nails done?' 4:18 pm</p><p>Clay immediately replies. </p><p>'yeah sure'<br/>'THAT'S the part i was talking about' 4:18 pm</p><p>I roll my tongue in my mouth. I want to cause problems. </p><p>'💅 pick the color you wanna see wrapped around your dick daddy' 4:19 pm</p><p>I see it get read immediately, then the typing bubble pops up. There's only a second before the next text.</p><p>'Attachment - $80'<br/>'so black is a nice color don't you think?' 4:19 pm</p><p>I immediately snort a laugh. It's so easy. </p><p>'🙈 yes daddy'<br/>'also 420 blaze it' 4:20 pm</p><p>'make sure its the super pointy ones too' 4:20 pm</p><p>I furrow my brow for a moment before I get it.</p><p>'you mean stiletto?' 4:20 pm</p><p>'if thats what its called then yeah' <br/>'and 420 blaze it'<br/>'shit i missed it'<br/>'i was distracted' 4:21 pm</p><p>I bite my lip, taking a soft breath. </p><p>'yeah? what were you thinking abt...'<br/>'😇😇😇' 4:21 pm</p><p>I see the message open, then my phone immediately lights with an in-coming call from Clay. </p><p>I answer, laughing. "You can't be this thirsty. It's been a day!" </p><p>Clay hums, voice low and deep, making my stomach immediately swing, laugh dying in my throat as a flush collects over my cheeks. </p><p>"I can't help myself when it's you." He says. </p><p>My breath hitches. Suddenly I'm lost in the Sahara desert and I've gone without water for days. </p><p>"Shit. Now I'm the thirsty one." I say, pouting.</p><p>Clay immediately bursts into laughter and we let the mood die. I chew my lip, looking for something to say that doesn't have to do with his dick. </p><p>It's weird, we definitely used to have conversations that never devolved... but now... one-track minds. </p><p>"Uh... so..." I hesitate, searching my brain for something to say. Oh! "So I got my car back!" I chirp, innocent enough conversation.</p><p>"Yeah? That's good news." Clay replies, matching my soft excitement. "You gonna drive somewhere to celebrate?" He asks.</p><p>I think for a moment. "Nah. I'm still tired from staying up so late last night." I say, then sigh. "But I'm home and free all afternoon..." I hint further, "With my computer..." </p><p>"Shit— say less, I'm logging on." Clay responds, immediately getting it.</p><p>I grin, happily wiggling, and shoot up to my feet, going straight for my PC, ready to tuck into some Minecraft. I hang up the call, then call him back on Discord.</p><p>There's a moment of silence, then. "Do you think you'd be comfortable joining the server, now?" He asks.</p><p>Something in my stomach goes tight. Yesterday, I would've said yes... but now... after the Twitter ordeal...</p><p>"I'd rather not... can we just— can we keep playing just by ourselves?" I ask, voice small.</p><p>"Oh. Yeah, of course, yeah." Clay immediately responds. "Just know you're whitelisted so— whenever you're up for it let me know." He says. </p><p>I exhale the breath I was holding. "Yes sir." I say without thinking.</p><p>Clay laughs, but it's low, quiet. "Oh come on. You know what you're doing to me." He says, letting his voice go deep.</p><p>Like I said... one track minds. </p><p>I swallow nervously, flush covering my face again. "Yeah? Well... you know what you're doing to me, daddy." I say, hesitant.</p><p>There's a moment of silence, then Clay comes in, voice dark, commanding. </p><p>"Take your fucking—"</p><p>Oop—</p><p>I fluster, and immediately interrupt him. "Let's pick this up some other day." I say fast. "I-I— I just want to play Minecraft right now." I stutter out.</p><p>I immediately hear Clay draw in a deep, tense, breath, then the sound of him tapping his desk in frustration. He grunts in confirmation, not helping the tension melt. </p><p>We both log on our RLCraft game, and start to play.</p><p>It takes a bit longer for the tension to melt, but it eventually does.</p><p>***</p><p>I'm surprised how long we play together, on call the entire time. We play together through dinner, all the way up until I'm ready to pass out.</p><p>"Clay..." I mumble, voice heavy with sleep. </p><p>It's only 11pm, which makes me feel like a chump, but I really do have classes at 8am. </p><p>"What, baby?" Clay asks, simple, casual. The ease with which he says it melts me. It just sounds... right, coming out of his mouth.</p><p>"Um..." I freeze for a moment, brain caught on the affection. "Uh— I'm really sleepy." I say, quiet.</p><p>Clay hm's in response. "It's literally e-le-ven." </p><p>I squint, irritable from being tired. "It's not my problem your sleep schedule is wack. Maybe you should fix it." I say, annoyed. </p><p>"Nah. I'll pass." Clay says immediately, unbothered.</p><p>I roll my eyes. "Whatever. I'm gonna go to bed then. G'nite." I say.</p><p>"Hey— wait up—" Clay immediately starts. </p><p>"What?" I bite back.</p><p>"Stop being a brat. Keep me on call." He says, sounding more like a demand than a request. Not that I'd say no to him anyways.</p><p>"I— okay. Yeah. But, I'm gonna dip for a sec and get ready for bed." I say. </p><p>"Good girl." I get in response, and immediately have to hang up the call, entire body warming. </p><p>You know what? He's easy... but God I'm easy too.</p><p>I get ready relatively quick. I'm flushed with heat crawling my skin once I settle into bed. I get back in the call with Clay, only to hear him making noises, combined with the furious tapping of his keyboard. </p><p>"What are you doing?" I ask, around a laugh. </p><p>Clay grunts. "Speedrunning."</p><p>"Oh." I hesitate for a moment. I must take too long, because he speaks again.</p><p>"Don't worry. I can keep talking to you."</p><p>The sentiment makes me smile, and I bury my face in my pillow. "Okay. I'll try to stay up for a little but... I might pass out. I'm so tired from yesterday's adventures." I mumble, muffled by the pillow. </p><p>"Nobody forced you to get drunk on a Sunday night." He says, and I make a noise of protest. </p><p>"Okay, jackass." I say, smile curling my lips. </p><p>"Watch your mouth. I'm recording." He says back.</p><p>Oh...</p><p>I swallow nervously. I'm a little annoyed, but more than that— I'm riled up. </p><p>"Fuck are you gonna do about it, bitch boy?" I say, and hear an immediate slam on his keyboard, followed by a gritted out 'fuck' under his breath.</p><p>"Cut the attitude." Clay says, voice low. </p><p>I melt into a smile. "Or what?" </p><p>I hear a sigh, then the discord call cuts. I yelp, suddenly feeling a lot more guilty. I go straight to text, typing a message. 'im sorry i didnt think' is as far as I get, before my phone lights up with an incoming Facetime from Clay.</p><p>I nearly shout again, and quickly answer.</p><p>There's a moment of tense silence then he speaks. "Since you can't behave, we're gonna have to talk like this so you don't show up on the recording." </p><p>I laugh, proud of myself. "Sorry— sorry. I just wanted to piss you off." I say back.</p><p>"Mission successful." Clay says back, and I feel my face flush. "I'll accept an in-person apology. Words optional." He says, with a cocky smile.</p><p>It makes me roll my eyes. I settle back into my bed, pleased. listening to the soft noises of him gaming, letting my eyes close and body relax. I keep teasing him until I can't anymore.</p><p>I faintly hear "Goodnight, baby." Before everything fuzzes over and I slip into sleep.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. two long weeks (fluff, plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I rub my eyes, exhaustion settling in down to the bone. I just finished my exam. I even pulled an all-nighter to study for it. I also come to the conclusion... I'm skipping my classes for the day.</p><p>It's been a full week since I've seen Clay, now. In my sleep addled state, I send him a text. I'm just trying to tell him I'm done with my exam, since I've been talking with him about it all week. I even called him right before it.</p><p>'it's over' 10:58am</p><p>I collapse into my bed with a guttural groan, and feel my phone start buzzing, an incoming call from Clay. I melt into a smile and answer, loopy. </p><p>"Hiiiiii—" I start, cooing.</p><p>"What the fuck do you mean?" Clay cuts in, voice tight.</p><p>I blink for a second, pulling my phone away, double checking the name to make sure it's him. </p><p>"Wha—?" I ask, lost. </p><p>"What? Your fucking text? Are you fucking with me right now?" He asks, and his voice cracks.</p><p>I blink, trying to clear my blurry vision. I go to look at our texts, seeing only my text.</p><p>"What text?" I mumble back.</p><p>Clay makes a wild noise. "It's— it's over?" He asks.</p><p>I split into a grin. "Yeah! My exam! I just finished it. It's finally over!" I say, happily humming. Ignorance is bliss.</p><p>There's a stretch of silence, a shuddered breath I'm too tired to understand, then, "Oh." Soft, quiet. "I— whatever."</p><p>"How do you think you did?" He asks after a moment, hesitant.</p><p>I hum again, stretching out in bed with a big yawn. "I don't want to think about that. I'm trying to go to sleep." I reply. </p><p>"Oh— really? I was about to finally go to sleep, too." Clay replies, and I briefly wonder why he called me.</p><p>"Going to sleep at 11am? Tsk, tsk. Bad doggy." I chastise. </p><p>Clay laughs before he speaks. "I know you aren't judging me for doing the same thing you're doing." </p><p>I giggle. "Yeah but I was up studying. You were up... what... coding, Minecrafting?" I tease. It's an equally valid reason for him to stay up all night, but I want to be rude.</p><p>Clay chuckles back. "Yeah. I was studying too. Studying the blade—" </p><p>I interrupt him with a groan. "Oh, fuck off." I grumble.</p><p>I think Clay's pleased to have angered me, based on the goofy noises he's now making. </p><p>"You can hang up whenever you're done laughing at my pain." I say around a yawn.</p><p>Clay makes a noise of protest, which surprises me. "I'd rather keep you on call." He says back, voice heavier.</p><p>I don't bother replying, letting myself sink into sleep.</p><p>***</p><p>It takes me a second to find my phone after I blink awake. I didn't sleep too long, a cursory check tells me it's only 3:39pm now. I see I'm still on call with Clay, and feel my heart melt knowing we 'slept together'.</p><p>"You awake?" I mumble into my phone, just a check.</p><p>I hear... not much, then suddenly there's incoherent mumbling followed by a single snore and groan. So he's definitely still asleep. I giggle to myself, lifting my phone to whisper more shit at him. </p><p>"Say nothing if you're a pissbaby." I whisper into the phone.</p><p>It's... so stupid. At least it's funny to me. Obviously, he doesn't respond.</p><p>"Snore if you suck at Minecraft." I say next, barely not giggling. The second he snores, I can't contain my cackle.</p><p>It makes Clay stir. I can hear the rustling of the sheets and soft sleepy noises. Then...</p><p>He mumbles my name, followed by a moan. </p><p>My breath immediately hitches, and I fall silent, frozen. I feel my heart thump in my throat. He's dreaming about me. </p><p>I nearly whine, everything feeling suddenly flushed and loose. I lift my phone, and go straight to our texts. I have to tell him what he just did. </p><p>I open the messages, and reread the last one I sent. Which... in hindsight...</p><p>'omfg im so sorry'<br/>'i just came to text u that u moaned my name whiel u were slepeing'<br/>'but then i saw my last text and'<br/>'yieks'<br/>'yieks*'<br/>'YIKES*'<br/>'im sorry if that freaked u out'<br/>'i promise id atleast call u for something like that omfg'  3:41 pm</p><p>I have to stop myself, despite the fact that I could send at least ten more texts, shamelessly at that. I'm a nervous rambler, but only over text. In real life... I freeze up. </p><p>Suddenly, I realize why it is he called, and I get only further embarrassed.</p><p>At least the outcome was good.</p><p>***</p><p>It's another five days before I get the results to my exam. Much like the previous week, I've called Clay every day, especially as I fall asleep. It's gotten to the point where I can't relax until I hear the timbre of his voice, the mechanical tap of his keyboard. </p><p>I get a 96%. I exhale in relief. I knew I had done well, but to know I did exceptionally well is a weight off my chest. I know I made the right choice staying home to study last weekend instead of spending it with Clay. </p><p>I immediately text him.</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'chem can officially gargle my piss 😎' 9:17 am</p><p>It takes a few minutes, but he texts back. </p><p>'hell yea dab on these hoes' 9:24 am</p><p>I scrunch my brows for that.</p><p>'clay....'<br/>'😀👉 what' 9:24 am</p><p>His reply is instant. </p><p>'Fwd: chem can officially gargle my piss 😎'<br/>'who are you?'<br/>'who are YOU to talk?' 9:25 am</p><p>I giggle out loud at the response. He's right, of course. </p><p>'👩🦯 '<br/>'anyways......................'<br/>'when's your trip?' 9:25 am</p><p>I'm pleased how quickly he's responding. </p><p>'we at the airport rn' 9:26 am</p><p>'excited?' 9:26 am</p><p>'i mean yeah it's gonna be p fun'<br/>'i just found out im not gonna have data or wifi the whole trip tho which sucks' 9:27 am</p><p>I immediately pout. </p><p>'oh 😞'<br/>'i guess take lots of pictures for me...' <br/>'just so you know... i am in fact pouting now.......' 9:27 am</p><p>':( poor baby'<br/>'you gonna cry?'<br/>'pee your pants maybe?' 9:28 am</p><p>His texts help the bad mood melt, a smile twitching my lips. </p><p>'i wouldnt pee myself'<br/>'im not u 🤪' 9:28 am</p><p>'you already did?'<br/>'miss oh my god daddy you fuck me so good im cumming and squirting' 9:29 am</p><p>I roll my eyes, but huff a laugh. </p><p>'yep that's my name 🙈'<br/>'don't wear it out' 9:29 am</p><p>There's a second of pause in the conversation, then.</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'miss s for short?' 9:31 am</p><p>The attachment is a screenshot of my contact in Clay's phone. My name is now Miss Oh-my-god-daddy-you-fuck-me-so-good-im-cumming-and-squirting. I actually cackle. What a dumbass.</p><p>'🙄' <br/>'idk... you only made me squirt once...'<br/>'maybe ur just not good at sex...'<br/>'i guess youll have to test it out by railing me' 9:32 am</p><p>I bite my lip, setting my bait.</p><p>'oh?'<br/>'ill remember that'<br/>'see you in fourteen days' 9:33 am</p><p>My face heats and I smile. I've got Clay right where I want him.</p><p>'what're you gonna do to me daddy?'<br/>'ill take anything because im your good little whore'  9:34 am</p><p>There's a moment where the message opens and the typing bubble appears, and disappears, then appears, and disappears. He's stuttering over text. Cute.</p><p>'stop iMm in public with my FAMILY' 9:34 am</p><p>I laugh at the tone of text, imperfect, obviously rushed, embarrassed. I could stop now but... I'm a dumb bitch desperate for as much of Clay's attention I can get before he leaves. </p><p>'so you don't want me?'<br/>'im already wet just thinking about what youre gonna do to me' 9:35 am</p><p>'fuck'<br/>'what are you thinking of?'<br/>'nvm please dont answer'<br/>'sorry' 9:35 am</p><p>I laugh at him. </p><p>'did daddy get busted for being horny in the airport?' 9:36 am</p><p>'yeah i was starting to get hard :((((' 9:36 am</p><p>I nearly scream at the response, but genuinely feel bad. That'd be awkward even if he wasn't surrounded by family. I decide to drop the sexual energy, still, I'm being an asshole.</p><p>'🅱️🅾️🅾️♓️🅾️🅾️ CRACKER' 9:37 am</p><p>I don't wait before continuing my stupidity. </p><p>'roleplay: im the tsa agent'<br/>'sir ☝️ please 🙏 step 👣 aside 🔜 with 🤝 me 👩✈️ it appears 👁🗨 ur 👈 packing 🎁 a weapon ⛓🔪⛓ in ur pants 👖'<br/>'my titties are metal detectors i need to use them to scan the affected area 😳' 9:38 am</p><p>I almost type out another sentence before Clay texts first.</p><p>'continue this joke for one more text and i swear to god ill block your number' 9:38 am</p><p>I giggle, tempted to push, but listen and stop.</p><p>We keep teasing each other until Clay can't text me anymore. His last text is:</p><p>'goodbye, ill talk to ur ass in about 5 days :*' 10:59 am</p><p>I text back.</p><p>':* mwah!' 11:00 am</p><p>But it gets left on not delivered. </p><p>***</p><p>I didn't expect to have this problem. </p><p>It's 3 am, Clay literally left to-day, and I'm feeling the impact. I've been trying to sleep for hours, but without him on call with me... it feels like an impossible task. </p><p>I thrash around in my bed, throwing a fit. Why am I in so deep. How am I in so deep. </p><p>I grab my phone, biting my lip, embarrassed. I go to his twitch, click a random VOD and start playing it.</p><p>It takes me less than 5 minutes before I finally relax enough to fall asleep. </p><p>***</p><p>I'm not sure how to occupy my time when I'm not spending it living in Clay's dm's, and he's still gone for four more days. I also don't feel like playing Minecraft alone. Before I can spend any more time thinking and scheming, Ellie walks in the front door. I don't even get a word in edge-wise. </p><p>"Do you want to get dressed up like you're going out and get drunk so I can take pictures of you for a project?" She asks.</p><p>I light up. "That sounds like a perfect Saturday."</p><p>Ellie makes a weird face that I think is supposed to be a joke, and gives me a thumbs up. I laugh anyways and shoot up, walking side by side with her back to my room. She goes straight to her room and into her closet, I assume to drag out her camera equipment, and I go straight to my closet, to find an outfit.</p><p>There are a few options I consider, but I decide to default to Ellie's opinion.</p><p>"So like— how much of a thot do you want me to be?" I call out.</p><p>I hear Ellie laugh, bright. "I want the boys in my class to beg me for your Insta after." She calls back.</p><p>I grin, suddenly knowing exactly what to wear. </p><p>I pull out a deep red satin dress. I originally bought it for going out, but once it arrived I realized the slits on the sides that were supposed to rest somewhere on my thighs, actually ended up resting above my hips. The consequences of online shopping, I suppose. </p><p>I chuckle to myself, mischievous, then strip and change. I don't bother with a bra or underwear, mostly because the cami top, low back, and high slit would make them look... really weird and pronounced. </p><p>As I said... I can't actually wear this dress anywhere. I don't even know why I keep it. </p><p>I step out of my room in literally just the dress, barefoot, and walk into Ellie's room. </p><p>"How's this?" I ask.</p><p>Ellie startles, then cranes her neck back to look. Her face immediately breaks into a grin.</p><p>"Oh my God I remember that. You kept it?" She says.</p><p>I immediately laugh. "Sure did. Will it work?" </p><p>"It's perfect." Ellie says, cracking into a sly grin. "Tell Clay to watch his ass, this dress boutta make me act up, oh my God." She says, then winks.</p><p>I feel my face flush as I laugh. That was a very much needed compliment. </p><p>"Any shoes?" I ask, lifting my bare foot to flop it around.</p><p>Ellie hums for a moment, thinking. "I think no shoes is it, actually."</p><p>"Okay!" I chirp, already done getting dressed, then, and slam down on Ellie's bed to wait for her to be done.</p><p>"So what's the idea, what's the vibe, what's the assignment?" I ask.</p><p>Ellie sighs and rolls her eyes. "Some fake deep shit about how the pandemic impacts college social life." She purses her lips. "I took it as a good excuse to hang out and drink with you." </p><p>I cackle for that. </p><p>"Sounds stupid and fun."</p><p>***</p><p>I flop down onto the couch with Ellie, and she leans into my space, showing the photos we just took. There's a pleasant warmth fuzzing my brain and across my skin due to the bottle of wine we just split.</p><p>The photos are... maybe a little risqué thanks to this stupid dress, but that's 'the vibe bro' according to Ellie. It makes my face flush to look at them, but... that's due to my one-track mind. I could definitely get a rise out of Clay using them.</p><p>"Can you send me some of those?" I ask, quiet. </p><p>Ellie laughs, catching my drift. "Which ones?" </p><p>I lean in closer, thumbing through the photos. There's... one that catches me off guard. </p><p>It's one that was taken right before an actual shot, where I was just getting ready to pose. I have my hand loose on my hip, fingers just teasing the top of the slit in my dress. I'm looking into the camera with a soft, lax expression, tongue darted out of my mouth, pressed to the neck of the wine bottle, chasing a drop. </p><p>It's... it's a little pornographic.</p><p>"Um..." I start, face warm.</p><p>"Yeah—" Ellie interrupts, "I'm gonna send you that one then delete it from existence." She says.</p><p>I huff a small laugh. "Thanks."</p><p>I kick around for a second in my head, waiting for Ellie to send the picture. The second I see the photo I'm tempted to send it right away so Clay sees it the second he's back, yet...</p><p>I choose to hold onto it, bide my time.</p><p>I turn back to address Ellie. "What's the move for the rest of the night?"</p><p>She immediately sighs, dragging a hand down her face. "I have to go lock myself in my room and edit these pictures before anything else. They're due tonight at midnight."</p><p>My face goes lax in surprise. "Bitch— why'd you push it so close—" I start.</p><p>Ellie laughs, standing up and waving. "Bye bye!" She coos, as she walks back into her room, avoiding my question.</p><p>I click my tongue at her as she goes, waffling, deciding what to do next. I decide first things first: get out of this dress. </p><p>I go to my room and change, soft shorts and big tee, something I'll probably wear to sleep. I end up sat at my computer, curled up in the seat, listening to Spotify. I make the choice to play League, just to waste time. </p><p>The second I open the game I hear a discord blip.</p><p>George<br/>'tell me ur not actually playing league rn... 😬' 6:03 pm</p><p>I instantly laugh. </p><p>'what's so wrong w that 🙄'<br/>'also ive been drinking again'<br/>'do u have a like... 6th sense?' 6:03 pm</p><p>'hand over the twitter account drunkie 🤲' 6:03 pm</p><p>I giggle, then open my twitter, creating a draft. </p><p>'can someone tell me why boys be sucking my titties like they tryna get milk out of them? does anyone feed them?'</p><p>I screenshot it, then obviously don't post it. I immediately send the screenshot to George. </p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'this good to full send? 🤪' 6:05 pm</p><p>I nearly scream at his reply. </p><p>'YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO'<br/>'THATS SO MUCH MORE INFO THAN I EVER NEEDED TO KNOW' 6:05 pm</p><p>I fold into a wheezing laugh, then hear another few notifications while I struggle to steady myself. I check them, and nearly fold again.</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'low ass blow'<br/>'dont post that while daddy dream is gone and cant even defend himself'<br/>'also tell me why the FUCK georgie gets to be buddies with u and im not??????'<br/>'yall play games in secret?????' 6:06 pm</p><p>So George is a chronic betrayer, then.</p><p>'sorry cowboy'<br/>'we had a bonding moment without u' 6:06pm</p><p>'not fair'<br/>'i want to bond with mrs dream too' 6:07 pm</p><p>I laugh at the name... then consider it. I'm not doing anything else tonight. So why not?</p><p>'ok invite me to play somn then :p' 6:07 pm</p><p>I only have a second before there's a discord ping and an invite to a call with George and Sapnap. I answer, and they immediately start giggling. </p><p>"Hi mommy!" Comes out of Sapnap's mouth, and they both devolve into full-bodied laughter. </p><p>"Fuck off." I groan, around a laugh of my own. "Let me know what we're playing whenever you boys are done." I say with a sigh. </p><p>Sap is the one that starts. "Are you whitelisted on the server we could—"</p><p>George interrupts. "Of course she is, are you stupid? Wait— do you secretly play with Dream?"</p><p>Sap lets out a noise before I can get a word in edgewise. "I bet they have their own server with a love fountain and their beds together and—"</p><p>"—AND THEY HAVE HORSES NAMED AFTER EACHOTHER." George interjects.</p><p>They both devolve into laughter again as I sit completely straight faced. I hold a laugh, then speak. </p><p>"Nah. Usually we just have sex." I say, deadpan.</p><p>I hear Sap choke on his spit, while George giggles wildly, already privy to the situation. </p><p>"Now if you're both done... I am whitelisted. But I've never played on it before. I'd rather my first time be with Dream—" I start, then realize what I said, "DON'T—" But it's too late. The laughter starts again. </p><p>I sigh, planting my head in my hands. </p><p>Finally, after a moment. "Fuck Dream. I guess literally and metaphorically. Get on with us instead." Sap says. </p><p>I bite my lip, hesitant. "I— I can't. Clay will actually kill all of us if I suddenly join for you guys after telling him no. Like... instadeath." </p><p>George hums, then starts to laugh again. "Okay but... hear me out... it would be funny..." </p><p>I bite my lip again, expression twisting, barely containing my laugh. "It— it would be funny..." </p><p>Suddenly there's a chant from both of them. "DO IT! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!"</p><p>My mouth twitches into an excited smile. "Okay I'll get on for—"</p><p>"FUCK YEAH!" Sap shouts over me. </p><p>I shout back. "HEY! Let me FINISH!" Suddenly there's only quiet laughing. </p><p>"I'll pop on for five seconds just to write in a book so you guys can use it to mess with him— but then we have to play something else." </p><p>"Whatever— get on, get on!" George says, excited.</p><p>"Yes ma'am." Sap says next. </p><p>"Okay— send it." I say, barely holding back a mischievous giggle. I briefly wonder if I'll get in trouble for this, and come to the conclusion that if I do... that's only better.</p><p>It only takes a few moments to connect to the server, then a few more for them to craft a book and come find me. I run in circles, waiting, then get a book and quill dropped on me while we all giggle wildly. </p><p>It takes me a second to think of my message, needing to write something recognizable, so that Clay knows it was me, on top of my username being tagged on the book. </p><p>'hey big daddy D -miss s' I write in the book, then name it 'stolen minecraft gf'.</p><p>I drop the book. We all cackle again, spam crouching in a group. Then I log. </p><p>"As soon as Dream— we're going to be dead George, actually." Sap starts, though he's still laughing. </p><p>After that, we're a lot more comfortable with each other, leaning toward something like friendship. I guess that's a good thing, though. It's only positive for us to get along.</p><p>We end up collecting a few of their other friends, and playing Among Us in a small group. I lose track of time, playing with them for hours, when I'm startled out of my focus by Ellie knocking at my doorframe. I don't bother muting. </p><p>I smile at her, and she takes it as permission, stepping into my room. "Hey. I just got done if you wanna watch a movie or something." She says, and there's immediately noises coming from the boys. </p><p>"Girl?" George starts. </p><p>Sapnap comes in with: "Is she hot? She sounds hot." </p><p>I roll my eyes. "Shut the fuck up." I chastise, then mute myself. </p><p>Ellie comes fully into my room, and sits on the arm of my chair. "Are you on call with Clay?" She asks, innocent. </p><p>I pout. "I wish. He's on a trip and doesn't have wifi for like... four more days." </p><p>Ellie fake pouts back. "That sucks. Who then?" </p><p>I smile again. "It's his friends. I'm getting them on my side with my irresistible charm." </p><p>She ooh's. "Are they hot?" She asks.</p><p>I snort, and roll my eyes. "They asked the same thing about you." I reply.</p><p>"Hi boys! I'm hot!" She chirps. I laugh again. </p><p>"I'm muted." I say back.</p><p>Ellie grins. "Well unmute." </p><p>I sigh, then do, dropping my headphones and switching to speakers. </p><p>"Hi! I'm Ellie! Are you cute?" She asks. </p><p>Sap gets the first word. "HI ELLIE! I'm cute but George isn't—" </p><p>"Hey! Don't listen to him! I'm cuter." George interrupts. </p><p>Ellie leans in toward me. "That accent is so— mmpf." She whispers right into my ear, and I have to laugh. </p><p>"So wait— are you hot?" Sap starts again, back on his bullshit.</p><p>"Wouldn't you like to know?" I quip back.</p><p>"Yep!" Ellie responds, simultaneously.</p><p>"Wait— I've never seen Mrs. Dream—" George starts, and I know where this is going. </p><p>"Yo, me neither—" Sap tags on. </p><p>Theres a moment of pause then, George yells. "SEND A PICTURE PLEASE I—" I laugh, then hang up the call and leave the game.</p><p>"Mrs. Dream?" Ellie asks, with a scrunched up brow, looking at me. I immediately feel embarrassed, ignoring the incoming discord message notifications and sleeping my computer. </p><p>"Um so..." I start, standing up and stretching. "Dream is like— Clay's name in the game they play? So they call him that. Then I'm... the missus." I say, hoping that's explanation enough.</p><p>Ellie seems to understand, brows lifting. She doesn't push it any further and nods. "Movie time then?" </p><p>"Movie time." I confirm, glad for the way we can communicate without speaking. </p><p>***</p><p>I'm sitting at work when Clay gets back.</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>17 New Messages</p><p>I knit my brow in confusion, then immediately relax once I open the messages. It's 17 pictures. </p><p>A happy grin splits my face, as I start to scroll through them. They're all cute, sweet. Some are landscape, some are selfies, some are of him and his family. There's one in particular of him in a swimsuit, cheesing, waving, with sunglasses on that makes me just melt. I also notice his beard has grown in.</p><p>I save it and make it my background immediately. As soon as I'm done I text back.</p><p>'🥺🥺🥺 hi' 2:04 pm</p><p>Unlucky for me, my supervisor walks up right as I text, and I get chastised.</p><p>I don't try to check my texts again until I get home.</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>4 New Messages</p><p>'shit sorry'<br/>'i guess they all sent the second my phone got data' <br/>'but hey'<br/>'did u miss me?' 2:57 pm</p><p>I grin, going straight to my room. I hate the way my heart is immediately thumping, happiness nearly overwhelming. </p><p>'i did!!!!!!!!!'<br/>'ur home now?' 4:16 pm</p><p>I'm happy when it's immediately read. </p><p>'yeah im kinda jet lagged but i made it B)'<br/>1 Attachment<br/>'one happy cat' 4:17 pm</p><p>The attachment is a video of Clay sitting on the couch with Patches mashed into his neck, purring and kneading his still unshaven face. </p><p>'who is this man?'<br/>'i dont recognize him' 4:17 pm</p><p>'you don't like the look?' 4:18 pm</p><p>'ooga booga clayve man' 4:18 pm</p><p>'i laughed and im so angry with myself about it' 4:18 pm</p><p>I bite my lip, I like texting, but what I really want is to call him. I go in for a soft start, tentatively checking. </p><p>'so... wyd rn... 👉👈' 4:18 pm</p><p>'sitting on the couch alone ig'<br/>'Patches already abandoned me :('<br/>'i dont wanna unpack yetttttttttttt' 4:19 pm</p><p>I start to type my question, but before I can, I get another text from Clay.</p><p>'side note: why the fuck are sap and george in my dms demanding a picture of you?' 4:19 pm</p><p>I feel my face flush with heat, then quickly delete what I had typed.</p><p>'we bonded over our shared raw sadness we felt because you left us 😿😿😿'<br/>'we played games together in your absence' 4:20 pm</p><p>'WHAT? lmao'<br/>'then im not sending them shit'<br/>'im glad u guys are getting along tho :)' 4:20 pm</p><p>I smile at my phone like an idiot. I feel myself flush with embarrassment, knowing what my next move is. I queue up the picture Ellie took of me, and type my message. </p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'wish u were this bottle 😳' 4:21 pm</p><p>Only a second after it's read, my phone lights up with a FaceTime from Clay. I bite my lip, letting out a soft laugh, face warming. That was even easier than I thought it would be.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. yes sir (smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I answer the call, keeping my phone turned away from me so I'm not on camera.</p><p>"Hi..." I say, soft, casual. Like I totally didn't just send him that picture to cause problems.</p><p>Clay's energy is... not the same. "Oh, come on. Show the angles right. I wanna see you."</p><p>I roll my eyes, but listen, lifting my phone to show my face. I try to look annoyed, but my lips keep twitching, fighting a smile. </p><p>"I see that. I see you trying to smile." Clay says, low, and it's immediately over. I break into a grin, swearing under my breath.</p><p>Clay laughs, looking infinitely more smug. "There's my girl." He says.</p><p>I melt, though I refuse to show it. "Fuck off..." I mumble back at him, biting my lip to stifle my expression.</p><p>I can hear Clay's mischievous laugh, then he doesn't speak for a moment.</p><p>"What?!" I finally ask, feeling flustered.</p><p>"Hold still, I'm taking a screenshot." He says, all confidence. </p><p>I immediately drop my phone. "Fuck off, Clay." I say, even more flustered. </p><p>Clay just laughs. I roll my eyes, still fussing and embarrassed. "Why'd you even call..." I start, though I know exactly why. </p><p>"You're kidding right? You knew exactly what was gonna happen when you sent that text." He says, low, and I swallow nervously.</p><p>I... I kinda did.</p><p>"I dunno what you're talking about..." I start, trying to be coy. </p><p>"I'm not playing games right now. Let me see you. Sweep the phone down your body." </p><p>My breath hitches, but I listen, heart in my throat. I briefly wish I was wearing something better. I'm just in an oversize graphic tee and shorts. I lift my phone and angle it, going up and down my body, then lifting it back up to my extremely flushed face. </p><p>"Take the shirt off." Clay immediately demands. </p><p>I fluster for a moment, nervous. "Can I— can I call you back on my laptop I—" </p><p>There's a low hum from Clay, then I see him settle back on his couch, eyes half-lidded. "Be quick." </p><p>I swallow around my tongue, and hang up the call. I take a second to just sit there and breathe, before I shoot up and do what I need to do. </p><p>First things first: finding something better than the plain ass boyshort underwear I have on now. I nearly trip over my feet, shedding my clothes as I walk to my dresser. Standing fully nude, I get to digging.</p><p>I settle for something nice— but not too nice. I don't want him to know I changed. I go for a high waist black thong and a matching simple underwire unpadded bra, then put the shirt back on. I'm nervous, but I fully believe it'll pass. </p><p>I grab my laptop and open it, almost calling Clay back, but get nervous again. I shoot up and pace. We've literally had sex before but... this is embarrassing. Usually I'm at least covered by Clay's body... but this time...</p><p>I realize I'm taking too long.</p><p>I shake the thought and swing back up onto my bed. I kneel on the mattress, sitting back on my heels, and set my laptop in front of me. I double check the camera angle, to make sure it's a full shot, then call. </p><p>Clay answers almost instantly. "I said quick."</p><p>I see that he's also relocated, now in his room, half-propped up by his pillows in his bed.</p><p>I lift my hand and nervously chew my nail. "I—I was thirsty so I was getting water, I—" </p><p>"Ah— I don't really fucking care. Take your shirt off." </p><p>My breath hitches, ache starting low in my stomach. Wordlessly, I lift onto my knees just a bit, then quickly shed my shirt before I can get embarrassed and stop myself. </p><p> Clay takes in a sharp inhale at the sight, blinking quickly, and suddenly I'm a lot more comfortable.</p><p>"Can—" He starts, breathless. I settle back down on my heels, waiting for him to finish. "God... can you take the bra off next?" </p><p>I build my courage. "You take your shirt off first." </p><p>I hear Clay hum, then he tilts his head back, gaze hot on me.</p><p>"No. You're listening to me right now." He starts, voice low, commanding.</p><p>I shift, swallowing nervously as soon as he says it. </p><p>"Be a good girl. Take the fucking bra off." </p><p>My stomach clenches, heat rolling out across my skin. I wasn't... expecting this energy. I can't help but listen. I watch Clay split into a pleased smile as it comes off. He sighs softly, then just barely readjusts. </p><p>"Play with your tits." He demands next.</p><p>I let out a barely there moan, and nod. I lift both hands to my chest, lightly grazing my nipples until they peak. </p><p>Clay shakes his head. "Pinch them. And I mean really pinch. Make it hurt." </p><p>I obey, immediately handling my breasts a lot rougher. I roll my nipples between my fingers, eyes fluttering shut, then pinch. It hurts in the best way, a quiet moan passing my lips. </p><p>I hear "Fuck." come from Clay, then the rustling of fabric and a soft exhale.</p><p>I go gentle with my hands again, letting my eyes open. "A-are you—" I start, getting embarrassed before I can ask. </p><p>Clay hums, shaking his head. "Not quite. I'm still over the clothes. Keep going for me." </p><p>I nod, and pinch again with a low whine, shifting nervously. I'm already fucking gone, and I haven't even touched myself. Clay's just melting, liquifying me. </p><p>"God you're so fucking pretty down on your knees for me." Clay moans out, low, and I feel myself pulse, clenching on air. </p><p>I moan again. "Can— can I touch my—" I start, but get interrupted. </p><p>"No. Not until I give you permission."</p><p>I let out another moan before I can stop myself, nodding in agreement. I don't know what got into him but... this is....</p><p>God this is hot.</p><p>There's a moment where we both just breathe, watching each other, tension building, before Clay speaks again.</p><p>"You got anything you can fuck yourself with?" He asks.</p><p>I laugh nervously, face heating with embarrassment. I do. I have a lot, actually. </p><p>"Um— I... yeah... what did you have in mind?" I ask.</p><p>"What d'you got?" He asks back. </p><p>I swallow around my tongue. I suppose there's no way around it.</p><p>"Don't make fun of me for this." I warn, watching Clay's brows furrow in concern.</p><p>I lift out of the bed and quickly pad over to the closet. I grab the shoe box I've repurposed into storage for... things... then bring it with me to the bed. I push the laptop out of the way, then climb back in with the box in my lap. </p><p>Clay immediately laughs. "A whole fucking box?" </p><p>I pout. "I said don't make fun of me..."</p><p>Clay's expression immediately softens. "I'm not, I'm not. I'm just surprised baby." </p><p>I shrug, still embarrassed. "I got... lonely over quarantine... and very bored of my hand." I explain. </p><p>Clay hums, nodding. "Well show me what you've got." </p><p>I lift onto my knees, readjusting, then open the box and point it at the camera so we can both see it. I hear Clay take a heavy breath. </p><p>"Bottom right?" He asks.</p><p>I look down, face immediately hot with embarrassment. Of course he'd see that first. I carefully lift my hand into the box and lift out a pair of chained nipple clamps.</p><p>"Listen—" I start, dangling them as Clay immediately splits into a grin.</p><p>"Uh-huh. I'm listening." He interrupts. </p><p>I nervously huff a laugh. "Look— it was in a set—"</p><p>"And what else was in the set?" His voice is teasing.</p><p>I smile, shaking my head. "You're a dick." I bite my lip, suddenly nervous. "Um... handcuffs... and..." I hesitate, the rest of it being much more incriminating.</p><p>"And?" Clay probes.</p><p>"Um... I— it's..." I'm completely flustered, staring down into the box. </p><p>"Why don't you just show me." Clay says, voice low. </p><p>I make a noise and nod, reaching in. I pull out the rest, one by one. A collar, leash, blindfold, gag, ankle cuffs, and rope come out of the box.</p><p>I literally cannot look up at Clay.</p><p>There's a moment of tense silence, then. "Your ass better bring that fucking box when you come up." He says, followed by a ragged exhale. "That dress in the picture too."</p><p>I finally look up, and see Clay looking intense, face flushed red. I nod, a confirmation.</p><p>"Christ—uh. You can— just put it away for now, though." He starts, sounding flustered himself. "I just— just pick something you can fuck yourself with— I can't handle looking through that whole box. I'm boutta— lose my fucking mind that I'm not there." </p><p>He's rambling, stuttering. </p><p>I smile, soft, beyond pleased I can have that effect on him. I swallow my nerves and collect everything back into the box and pick the first cock I see, firm, clear, plastic, and hold it up. </p><p>"How's this?" I ask, shaking it like it's not about to go inside of me. </p><p>Clay laughs. "Yeah. It's perfect." He takes a small pause, looking at me with a heated stare. "Set it aside and take your panties off."</p><p>My breath hitches as the mood switches back to serious. I close the box and drop it to the floor, then lay down, propped up, with my laptop between my legs. I arch, lifting my hips, and slide my panties down and off. Embarrassed, I keep my knees pressed together, legs closed tight. </p><p>He shakes his head. "Spread your fucking legs. Let me see." </p><p>I swallow my nerves, and let my legs relax, lifting my knees until I'm spread on display. I have to keep my hands curled at my chest so they don't instinctively dart down to cover myself. </p><p>God, this is embarrassing.</p><p>"You can touch yourself." Clay says, low. </p><p>I whine and nod, dragging a hand along my body until it's between my legs. My fingers twitch in hesitation, but I steel myself, pushing my fingers forward to slide through my slick. </p><p>I'm not... surprised to find I'm already wet. </p><p>"Good girl." He says, nearly a purr. </p><p>I let out a breathy moan, slowly circling my clit, awaiting Clay's instructions. I unfocus for a moment, eyes fluttering, hips rolling, losing myself in the sensation. </p><p>I'm brought back by the soft rustling of fabric, and a moan from Clay that I match. I blink my eyes open and see the camera angle on Clay has changed. Instead of his face, it's now his bare chest, down. I see his sweats pushed down his thighs, and his hard, flushed cock getting slowly pumped by his hand. </p><p>I makes me clench on air, desperate to be filled by him.</p><p>"Tell me how it feels, baby." Clay mumbles out, and my heart jumps. He's absurdly close to the mic, and it's picking up every little noise he's making. </p><p>I let out a soft moan in return, watching him jack off to me. "It's good..." I pause for a moment. "But you feel so much better..." I follow with a sigh. </p><p>Clay laughs, low and deep. There's something... predatory in it. "I know baby. I'll make you feel good soon." I see him pause to squeeze his cock, moaning. "Hands off your clit. Let me see you finger yourself." He demands.</p><p>I nearly mewl, heart in my throat as I listen, dropping my hand lower to push two fingers inside of myself. It feels good— but it's not enough. I whine.</p><p>"I can't— it's not deep enough—" I make a noise of frustration. "I wish you were here, fucking me, so bad, daddy I can't—" </p><p>I'm interrupted by a frustrated moan from Clay that makes me throb on my too-small fingers. </p><p>"The fucking things I'm going to do the second I get my hands on you—" Clay says, low, dangerous. </p><p>The depth and severity of his voice have me moaning again, heat and embarrassment flooding my face. I can't believe he's getting me to submit and beg him to fuck me over a video chat.</p><p>I drop my other hand to move on my clit, fingers tensing, heat building low in my abdomen. I'm close just from this.</p><p>"Hands off." Clay demands, and my hands retract before I can even think. I whine, bucking my hips into the air at the loss of sensation. </p><p>He laughs, low. "I want to watch you fuck yourself on that plastic cock, since your fingers aren't getting deep enough for you." He says.</p><p>I fluster for a moment, heart in my throat. </p><p>"Can— can I please cum first— I'm so close—" I moan out, brain fuzzed over with heat. Clay hums, considering it, hand on his cock paused.</p><p>I keep talking, nervous. "It'll be easier to get the cock in if I—" </p><p>Clay interrupts. "Fine. Spread yourself open. Let me see you cum."</p><p>I gasp a moan, dropping both hands back down between my legs. I use one hand to hold my pussy spread, the other rapidly pleasuring my clit to chase my climax.</p><p>It takes no time at all, experience letting me do it exactly the way I like. I kick out on the mattress, moaning Clay's name, then arch, shivering into my orgasm. I keep my fingers steady on my clit, grinding though the sensitivity, moaning desperately. </p><p>It feels... absurdly fucking good. It's been since Clay last fucked me that I came, I realize. As soon as it becomes too much, I melt into the mattress, pulling my hand back, panting and moaning. I keep my other hand between my legs, holding myself spread for him, feeling myself pulse and flutter on nothing.</p><p>Clay's voice is immediate, fuck-rough. "Your little pussy is so fucking desperate to get filled." I see his hand drag up his cock with a low grunt. "I can see it, begging for my cock."</p><p>I whine for the words, not quite able to speak yet. He's right though, it's all I can think about, him fucking me. </p><p>"Sit up." He demands. I let out a mewled moan, still feeling like liquid, unrecovered from my orgasm, not moving.</p><p>"I said get up. You're going to ride that plastic dick like it can cum for you." His voice is low, unforgiving.</p><p>I whine again. "Just— just a moment please I—"</p><p>Clay interrupts me. "I don't care. Get up and fuck yourself for me."</p><p>I moan, completely gone, but listen, dragging myself back up to a kneeling position.</p><p>"There's my obedient little whore."</p><p>I feel my stomach flutter. This side of Clay is... is driving me crazy.</p><p>"Yes sir." I moan, eyes half-lidded, adjusting to line the plastic cock up between my legs. </p><p>I hold the base of it steady, then sink down on it. I immediately exhale in relief. The stretch is good— but still nothing compared to the way the real thing feels. </p><p>I start to move on the cock, riding it, despite the way my thighs tremble in sensitivity. Moans drip from my mouth, near constant. It's... almost too much, but I know I can do it for him.</p><p>"You're such a good girl..." Clay moans out, and it's suddenly so worth it.</p><p>I steady myself, and start bouncing, riding the cock as hard as I can, entire body trembling with over-sensitivity. </p><p>"God—" Clay lets out a desperate moan, and I barely open my eyes enough to see his hips lift, fucking himself into his hand. </p><p>"I bet you'd feel so fucking good on my cock right now. So fucking tight, clenching down. With that pretty little face you're making—" He moans again, breathy. </p><p>I nearly whimper, rolling my hips to ride the plastic with as much fervor as I can. His words have me tipped back into building pleasure, throbbing on the cock inside of me, wishing it was his. </p><p>"Talk to me, baby." Clay says, breathy, and I realize I've been dead silent other than my moans. </p><p>"It's— I can't fucking wait to see you again I—" I moan again, adjusting my hips so the angle hits me just right. </p><p>"I can't stop thinking about it—" I whimper, watching the way Clay's cock slightly jerks with my voice. I have to close my eyes, flush burning my face.</p><p>I swallow another moan, trying to find my voice again. I'm suddenly moving my hips to chase another orgasm.</p><p>"It's gonna be torture to drive up— knowing it's only those two hours before I'll be fucked again." I sigh out.</p><p>Clay immediately moans, and I see his arm tense with restraint, staving off his pleasure so we can go longer. I'm not as controlled. I let myself move wildly, slamming myself up and down on the cock until I crest over into another orgasm, moaning his name. </p><p>My hips stutter to a stop as I cum, and I nearly double over, dropping a hand to my mattress to support myself, rocking my hips.</p><p>I feel myself throbbing, desperate, still unsatisfied. </p><p>Clay makes a pleased noise that gets my attention as I keep myself supported, trembling, dragging myself through my orgasm. </p><p>"You're such a sensitive girl..." He starts, voice lower, more tender. "You cum so easy." </p><p>I whine, lifting my hips, dragging the plastic cock out of me. I drop it to the mattress and melt, folding back into my half-propped laying position. My hand immediately goes back between my legs, gently circling my clit as I watch Clay keep slowly jerking his cock. </p><p>"I don't, really..." I sigh out, hiding my face in my shoulder. "It's— i-it's..." I lower my lashes, worrying my lower lip. "I'm only like this with you. You make me so fucking—" I sigh, finding a rhythm with my fingers, each pass only making my legs slightly jerk. </p><p>Clay lets out a huffed laugh, low and pleased. "I want to watch you cum one more time for me, baby." He says, pitching his voice low. </p><p>My stomach flutters, and I nod, head cast back in my pillows. I steady myself and speed my fingers up, despite the way it makes me jerk in oversensitivity.</p><p>Clay laughs again. "Christ. Look at you. You'll do anything for me if I ask, huh?"</p><p>I whine, nodding, barely keeping my eyes open to watch him moving his hand on his cock. </p><p>"That's my good girl." Clay mumbles out, breathy, and it's all it takes.</p><p>I cum with a strangled moan, entire body arched, pulled tight. It finally feels like enough as I pulse and whimper. I hear a slew of moans come from Clay, then a bitten out "Fuck." </p><p>I barely flutter my eyes open in time to see him squeeze himself, cumming in a stripe up his stomach. I moan, watching his hips rock his cock into his hand, breathy, desperate moans falling from his mouth. </p><p>I finally retract my hand, then curl up, feeling as good as liquid. </p><p>We both spend a moment in silence, just breathing, before Clay finally speaks. </p><p>"I'm gonna clean this up and call you back, yeah?" He says, voice rough and quiet. </p><p>I manage a nod, slowly blinking. </p><p>The second he hangs up I force myself to sit up, putting the sex toy back in my box, shutting my laptop, and pulling my shirt back on. I don't even bother to try getting out of bed, knowing the way my thighs are trembling will make the attempt unsuccessful. </p><p>I'm already wrapped up under a blanket in my bed when my phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime. I answer it, fuzzy and soft. </p><p>"Hi." I say, nearly a whisper.</p><p>Clay immediately laughs. "Wow. Came so hard you're going to bed?" He asks, teasing.</p><p>I blink slowly, then nod. "Well, what are you gonna do?" I ask.</p><p>He furrows his brow at me. "What else? I'm coding." </p><p>I snort a laugh, feeling myself melt. "Yay!" I mumble out. "I missed your voice so much." I continue, able to admit it because I'm loopy from cumming my brains out.</p><p>"Yeah?" Clay asks, looking soft, surprised. "I missed yours too." He says, and it almost sounds like an admission. </p><p>I giggle. We have a moment of shared silence, only filled with the tap of Clay's keyboard, before I finally collect myself enough to stay awake and interrogate him— at least a little. </p><p>"So you were certainly in a mood today..." I start, coy. "Mister you can't touch yourself until I give you permission." I say watching his reaction.</p><p>Clay immediately ducks his head, cheeks going red. He speaks contrastingly confidently. </p><p>"I dunno. Seems like you liked it, huh?" He says right back.</p><p>I laugh again. He's... totally right. Shit had me... gone. </p><p>"You know I did, daddy— wait—" I start, but suddenly remember something. "You said you'd take the BDSM test!" </p><p>Clay just hums, looking non-plussed. "Oh did I?" </p><p>I pout. "You did! In the car!" I pitch my voice quieter, softer. "C'mon... I'm really curious now, after... all of... that..." </p><p>Clay sighs, looking at my pout, then rolls his eyes. "Fine. Drop the link. I'll take it real quick. Just for you."</p><p>I break into a grin, stomach buzzing with excitement, and send him the link. </p><p>I hear a few clicks, then see him lean in toward his PC, reading with his chin in his hand. </p><p>I patiently wait, hearing a few rapid fire clicks as Clay checks off questions. Then there's a pause. He turns and looks straight at me, and blinks. </p><p>"I enjoy being used as a urinal." He quotes. He continues to blink at me, looking concerned. </p><p>"Go ahead and check strong agree, pissbaby." I say, teasing. </p><p>Clay rolls his eyes, and goes back to clicking. There's only a few more minutes before he speaks. </p><p>"Okay. Done." He says.</p><p>I feel my heart thump, excitement building.</p><p>"Send a screenshot!" I chirp, suddenly very awake.</p><p>Clay laughs, shaking his head, but my phone dings. I open up his results and—</p><p>Oh. </p><p>Oh my god. </p><p>Degrader 100%<br/>Brat Tamer 99%<br/>Rigger 99%<br/>Sadist 98%<br/>Dominant 95%</p><p>My eyes drop to the bottom of the list and I smile. </p><p>"It's the 0% non-monogamist for me." I say. </p><p>Clay immediately laughs. "I understand that one. What the fuck is the rest of this?" He asks. </p><p>I look at the list. "It says you want to call me a whore, tell me to behave, tie my hands to the bed frame, then make me cry and beg for you to fuck me." </p><p>Clay blinks, brow furrowing. "I guess. Do we really need a quiz to know that?" He asks, then huffs a laugh. </p><p>I hesitate for a moment. "I mean... that was me joking around. Do you want me to be serious?" I say, breathy.</p><p>He shrugs, brows still knit together. </p><p>"Would you want, like... I dunno..." </p><p>I hesitate for a moment, swallowing my nerves. </p><p>"Would you being interested in like... tying my hands behind my back and doing whatever you fucking want to me, while I just lay there and take it? Every time I get too loud you could like... choke me or shut me up with something else in my mouth— I want you to get rough with me." I finally say, embarrassed.</p><p>Clay's expression is lax, surprised. "You'd be into that?" He asks, voice softer than expected.</p><p>I swallow, nervous. "Yes."</p><p>Clay immediately cracks into a grin, shaking his head. "I'm about to get real disrespectful when I see you again." He says.</p><p>It's enough that I burst into laughter, letting the tension melt. There's another moment of silence where we both stare at each other, both with stupid grins, before Clay breaks it again. </p><p>"But imagine this, I tie your arms above your head and I eat you out and don't let you stop cumming until you cry, and then I finally fuck you like that." He says, voice low.</p><p>I feel my heart thump, heat building in my stomach again. "Y-yeah..." I sigh out, breathy.</p><p>Clay looks at me, brows raising. I see him pause in consideration, slowly dragging his tongue along his lower lip, before he nods, grabbing his phone and standing back up.</p><p>"Take your shirt back off. I don't think we're done." He says, a demand.</p><p>My breath hitches, heat blooming on my cheeks. </p><p>"Yes sir."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. two more long weeks (plot, fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After that call... it's like the flood gates have broken. Almost everytime I call or text it devolves until Clay gets me spread open, begging into my phone for him.</p><p>It's... embarrassing, honestly. But, I feel like it will likely continue until we can see each other again.</p><p>Thankfully, I get to see him in only three more days.</p><p>God how am I supposed to last three whole days.</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>New Message</p><p>'72 hours remain' 1:35 pm</p><p>I stifle a small laugh, keeping my phone in my lap. I'm in the middle of my last class for the day, bored out of my fucking mind. </p><p>'get out of my dms ugly im in class 🔫😌' 1:35 pm</p><p>'dont respond to me then?'<br/>'bad girl' 1:35 pm</p><p>I can feel my face warming. I should probably just take his advice, drop my phone and pay attention, yet...</p><p>'if you say sumn like that follow thru'<br/>'wheres my'<br/>'😈⛓PUNISHMENT AND SPANKINGS⛓😈?' 1:36 pm</p><p>I keep my phone open, see the message get read, see the typing bubble pop, then get pulled from my focus by my professor calling my name. I startle, quickly locking my phone and looking up to make eye-contact.</p><p>"Huh?" I quickly sputter out. </p><p>Dr. K raises his brows, holding my eye-contact for a moment, then silently turns back to what he was saying. I feel my face warm with embarrassment, thankful for my face mask so no one can see me now nervously worrying my lip. </p><p>The second class is over I try to dip quickly, partially because I'm still embarrassed, and partially because I want to get in my car and see what Clay had to say. I'm interrupted by a hand catching my arm, tugging me to a stop. </p><p>I turn, confused, and see two of my classmates standing there, one still holding my arm at the bend. It's Matt... or maybe Mark? I'm not great with names.</p><p>He's still holding my arm. I finally tug it back. </p><p>"You need something?" I ask, cautious. </p><p>I see him process for a second, then pull back into his own space. "Yeah." I can see the cocky smile, even under the mask. "Can I get your Snap real quick? We're starting a group chat for notes."</p><p>I furrow my brow. I have an A in this class. "Nah— I'm—" I start, trying to brush him off and turn away. He catches my arm again and I roll my eyes, annoyed. </p><p>"C'mon. You don't have to send any if you don't—" </p><p>"Fine." I interrupt, only more annoyed. I just want him out of my hair. I pull my phone out, give my Snap, and finally dip like I wanted to. </p><p>The second I'm sitting in my car I pull my mask off and phone out, checking what Clay sent. </p><p>Daddy Dream <br/>4 New Messages </p><p>'you'll see 72 hrs from now' 1:36 pm</p><p>'ur awfully quiet' <br/>'did u get busted?' 1:43 pm</p><p>'u for sure got busted :)' 1:49 pm</p><p>I grin to myself, then text back. </p><p>'i did 😭'<br/>'i think im lobotomized' 2:02 pm</p><p>I think on Clay's text, and decide I might hold him to that threat... maybe. </p><p>***</p><p>I'm back home from getting the nails Clay requested and I'm already sitting at my desk, spinning in half circles in my computer chair, lost in thought.</p><p>Maybe I should just skip my Friday class, go straight to Clay's tonight...</p><p>I pull my fresh nails away from my mouth before I can chew them, and clear my head. There's only a day left. I can make it a fucking day. Still... who am I if not a tease?</p><p>I take a picture of my of my hand, displaying the set.</p><p>I hesitate before sending it, wondering if he even remembers that he asked for these... </p><p>Ah, fuck it.</p><p>I send. </p><p>1 Attachment <br/>'pointy and black enough for your dick? 😌' 5:19 pm</p><p>I sit back down at my desk, having fun rapping my own nails against the keyboard with my phone open, just waiting for the text back. It comes quicker than expected. </p><p>'i lost 😩' 5:21 pm</p><p>I immediately snort a laugh. I hate the way everything he says has me geeking.</p><p>'🥩🤛'<br/>'tell ur meat to watch its back' 5:22 pm</p><p>'tell ur hole the same'<br/>'im still the coochieman' 5:22 pm</p><p>I laugh again.</p><p>'i stg clay' <br/>'say that during sex see what happens' 5:22 pm</p><p>It's immediately read and responded to.</p><p>'i will'<br/>'also maybe u could send me a pic of those pretty little hands touching something else?' 5:23 pm</p><p>I bite my lip, face heating.</p><p>'are u asking for a titty pic or a kitty pic?'<br/>'either way'<br/>'no 😏' 5:23 pm</p><p>'why not? ;(' 5:23 pm</p><p>'bc! i see u in less than 24 hours... let little clay take a breather'<br/>'he's going to be very very very very busy the next few days 🥵' 5:24 pm</p><p>'dont ever call my dick that again' 5:25 pm</p><p>'😩 why? its not like he can hear me' 5:25 pm</p><p>'ALSO dont refer to my dick in 3rd person???¿¿?¿' <br/>'OR CALL IT LITTLE ¿??¿??¿?'<br/>'send ass pics as an apology'  5:25pm</p><p>I finally let out another laugh that I was holding. It's fun to tease Clay like this, but I'm ready to stop.</p><p>'wyd rn?'<br/>'other than begging for pics like a little scoundrel' 5:26 pm</p><p>'im practicing 1.16 runs but i dont have to be if you wanted to do something' 5:26 pm</p><p>I wiggle happily and scroll my Steam library, looking for something that might be fun to play that's multiplayer. My eyes land on Stardew Valley. I hesitate, but decide to commit.</p><p>'do u have stardew?'<br/>'we could have a littel farm and get mawwied and stuff 👉👈' 5:28 pm</p><p>'are you being fr?' 5:28 pm</p><p>I feel my face warm with embarrassment, wondering if I over-stepped, not sure how to read the tone of his text.</p><p>'sorry'<br/>'i just thought it could be fun' 5:29 pm</p><p>'i have it i just have to redownload rq'<br/>'hop on call' 5:29 pm</p><p>I still feel embarrassed as I navigate to the Discord channel and pop my headphones on, entering a call.</p><p>"Yo." Clay says immediately. I nearly laugh at him for it.</p><p>I pitch my voice as low as I can. "Yo bro what's popping?" </p><p>I immediately hear Clay sigh. "So this is what we're doing? This is how we're acting?" He asks, teasing me.</p><p>I keep my voice low. "I dunno what you mean, dawg. This is just how I talk on Jah."</p><p>Another sigh, then: "Sapnap soundin' kinda different these days." Clay says.</p><p>I immediately break, bursting into into a high, breathy laugh. Clay chuckles back, low, controlled. </p><p>After laughing, I finally get back on track. I hesitate to open Stardew, still a bit confused at his earlier reaction. </p><p>"We don't have to play this if you don't want to." I start, soft. "We could just play Minecraft or something..."</p><p>Clay only takes a second to respond. "Nah I mean, if this is what you want to play, we'll play it."</p><p>There's a moment before he speaks again. "But you gotta do all of the farming. I refuse." </p><p>I roll my eyes. "Clay... that's half the damn game." I chastise, then see he's opened it, and open it myself. </p><p>"Yeah? And I'll be playing the other— the— the other— hold on a sec." Clay says. </p><p>I furrow my brow, a bit lost, and hear rapid typing from over his mic. </p><p>"You good?" I ask after a moment. </p><p>Clay hums. "Sorry just—" more typing, "—getting assaulted—" more typing "—oh my God—" more typing.</p><p>I just listen with raised brows, surprised when I hear two discord pings and suddenly George and Sapnap are both in the call.</p><p>"Explain yourselves." Clay commands.</p><p>I feel my brows nearly climb into outer-space. </p><p>"Can we play too?" George immediately asks.</p><p>Sapnap makes a noise and jumps in next. "Please mommy, say yes before daddy says no."</p><p>I immediately feel my face flush with embarrassment, mouth floundering as I try to come up with a single word, Clay immediately cutting in.</p><p>"WHAT?!?" He half shouts, and I feel my face contort. </p><p>There's mischievous giggling from George and Sap. I choose to pretend Sap said nothing. </p><p>"Sure, but only if you guys help me farm. Dream's refusing to." I say, resolute.</p><p>I hear some wooping, then see both of their Discords update as the open the game. </p><p>I hear another notification from my Discord and start to feel a bit overwhelmed, focus split on speaking, needing to send the invite code, and now a DM from Clay. I send the invite code first, then go to read the message.</p><p>'we got date crashed :('<br/>'u dont have to let them join if u dont want'<br/>'u can tell me and ill let them know so u dont have to look like the bad guy' 5:37 pm</p><p>I smile, warming at the fact that Clay's concerned for how I feel.</p><p>'nah it's alright'<br/>'do u actually want to play? u made it seem like u didnt...' 5:38 pm</p><p>'what?'<br/>'no its fine i like the fishing and the combat' 5:38 pm</p><p>I don't end up responding to that, out of fear of just repeating myself into an infinite loop. I make my character, name myself Honey, and make my favorite thing 'dicknballs'. </p><p>The duality of man.</p><p>I already hear giggling in my ears as the rest of them make their characters, and know this is going to be bad, or at the very least, stupid. </p><p>The second we spawn in I read off their names. Dream, Gogy, and... Sapdaddy. I roll my eyes.</p><p>"Sapdaddy." I say aloud, just so that it's known. </p><p>"Yes, Honey?" Sap replies, and Clay immediately makes a noise. I quickly think I've made a miscalculation. </p><p>"Oh." I say, soft, realizing. "I didn't think about that." I let out a small laugh. </p><p>George swings in next. "It's okay, Honey." He says, pleased with himself. </p><p>I immediately feel my face heating with embarrassment. I just thought Honey would be cute, I didn't consider the fact that it is a literal pet name.</p><p>"Hey." Clay starts, and I nearly melt into my seat, "Honey."</p><p>There's a shared laugh between the three as I barely don't bash my head in. </p><p>"So how does this work?" Sap immediately asks once he's collected himself. "I don't usually play shit like this."</p><p>"Then why are you here?" Clay interjects before I can explain. </p><p>"Yeah. Why are you here?" Tags on George.</p><p>Clay makes another noise. And Sap makes a noise of his own, speaking with a raised voice. </p><p>"What's wrong Dream? Upset you don't get to have a little e-date?" He antagonizes. "Angry that you're not going to get some e-pussy?" </p><p>I hear Clay start to grumble as he speaks. "Yeah like I have any trouble getting ANY—" I decide to zone out there, instead focusing on the chat where George is sending messages. </p><p>Gogy: im going to bring u my seeds and u can start a big parsnip patch</p><p>Honey: yay :3c<br/>Honey: what r u gonna do if i do all of that</p><p>Gogy: ill water while you plant :]</p><p>I faintly still hear Clay and Sap yelling at each other and listen back in.</p><p>"IF THERE'S PVP IN THIS GAME I'M GOING TO FUCKING SHRED—"</p><p>"I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY THAT I'D KILL YOU BEFORE YOU CAN EVEN—"</p><p>I zone back out. </p><p>George's character runs up on mine and we key smash, ramming ourselves together. It takes a few tries, but eventually I have all of the seeds and we start to clear the field below my house together. </p><p>Clay and Sap are still shouting, opening up Minecraft to pvp each other once they realize the game doesn't have pvp. </p><p>I huff. At least George is sane. </p><p>Him and I spend time running into town together, when he checks the Calendar.</p><p>Gogy: whats the picture of the person on the day mean?</p><p>Honey: means its their birthday<br/>Honey: if u give them a gift that day u get extra friendship with them</p><p>Gogy: oh!<br/>Gogy: then whens your birthday?<br/>Gogy: i need the extra friendship &gt;:]</p><p>Honey: nov 12<br/>Honey: so maybe like fall 12 in the game i guess?</p><p>George makes a noise aloud, that I only hear because Clay and Sap have gone silent, focused on murdering each other. </p><p>"Wow, that's close!" George says and I hum. </p><p>"Not that close. It's still like a month away." I reply. The second I'm done speaking Clay shouts.</p><p>"THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT. STAY DOWN PUSSYNAP." He shouts.</p><p>My eyebrows climb even higher. There's a moment of silence before George speaks again.</p><p>"Um... anyways... do you have any plans? Like anything special you do?" He asks.</p><p>I hesitate speaking, but eventually do. "Uh... I-I... usually not until Thanksgiving break because of school but um..." I pause again, actually thinking about it.</p><p>"Well usually my family goes up North to visit my Grandparents, but we probably won't this year because of the whole... y'know. Pandemic." I say.</p><p>George hums. "That really sucks. Is your family like... from there, or..." </p><p>I open my mouth to speak, but Clay speaks first. "Nah. They moved there when she was a kid."</p><p>I purse my lips. "Yep. What he said." </p><p>"Why are you talking about that?" Clay asks, and I roll my eyes. </p><p>"He asked about my birthday." I say in response. </p><p>Clay makes a small noise of acknowledgement, then George jumps back in. </p><p>"Yeah, Dream. Her birthday is a month away and it sounds like she has no plans, isn't that crazy..." He says, sounding coy. </p><p>I scrunch my brows, listening closer as I hear Clay laugh under his breath before he responds. </p><p>"Shut the fuck up." </p><p>I raise my brows. "Calm down Clay, don't pull out the nine." </p><p>I get the bare minimum of a laugh from him for that. There's a tension there that I don't quite understand, but note anyways. We fall back into a silence.</p><p>"How do you play this stupid game?" Sap mumbles, breaking it.</p><p>I laugh at him. "C'mere. I'll show you." I say. </p><p>It's still tense for a moment, but we all eventually fall into a rhythm doing different tasks. Clay always fucks off first thing every the morning to fish, I water everything with George and Sap, then George goes and talks to people. Sap follows me around like a puppy while I walk the map foraging. </p><p>Eventually on the fifth day, the mine opens and I get excited. Without thinking, I speak.</p><p>"Daddy, you wanna come to the mines with me?" I ask, tone neutral. I'm talking to Sap, because of his in-game name.</p><p>Clay responds. "Yeah just gimme a second."</p><p>I continue, not thinking. "I was talking to Sapdaddy." </p><p>"Of course I'll come to the mines, Honey." Sap says.</p><p>The silence that descends is nearly oppressive as everything clicks together in everyone's pea-sized brains. </p><p>I make a conscious decision to continue, just to irritate Clay. </p><p>"Thank you daddy. Let's go." I say.</p><p>Sap immediately laughs, understanding that I'm fucking around. "On my way, Honey." He says.</p><p>"You don't have to call him that..." Clay eventually grumbles out. </p><p>There's another stretch of silence, before George chimes in. "I'm coming to the mines too, also are we going to brush over how automatically Dream answered to daddy? Are we just choosing to have not experienced that?" </p><p>I snort a laugh, unable to contain it. </p><p>"I don't know what you mean George..." I say as soon as I can handle myself. "I think he just misheard me say 'dream' because I was clearly talking to daddy Sapnap, Daddynap, if you will." </p><p>I pause for a moment, then address his next statement. "Just grab your pickaxe and some food and follow me, I'll show you where the mine's at. Clay you coming?" I ask.</p><p>"No." Clay says, voice low, quiet. </p><p>Oop— I might have pissed him off. </p><p>I get to the mine with with both of them and inside. They both surprise me with their capability in combat. Though, I guess it tracks that that would be their strong suit. We push a little too far, and I almost die, but Sap saves my life. </p><p>I decide to still cause problems. </p><p>"I love you, Daddy Sap. Is there any way I can repay you?" I say. </p><p>Sap immediately giggles. "Come give me a smooch." </p><p>"Yes sir!" I chirp back, and run for his character. </p><p>George immediately makes a noise of protest. "If we're smooching I want in." </p><p>All three of us run into a group, giggling mischievously, making wet kissing noises into the mics and mashing together.</p><p>Clay is completely silent, then I hear a Discord ping.</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>'knock it the fuck off'<br/>'why are you flirting w them?' 7:02 pm</p><p>I stifle a laugh, seeing his genuine frustration and go to reply. I type out 'why not? it's not like im dating anyone 🤪' but feel the hurt hollow out low in my stomach. I suddenly realize exactly why I've been acting up. </p><p>I delete the message. </p><p>'oh sorry i thought it was funny'<br/>'ill stop' 7:02 pm</p><p>'thanks' 7:02 pm</p><p>From there on I act normally. It's still a lot of fun, but there's a uneasiness in my stomach that I have to fight to dismiss.</p><p>It's fine that we're not like... officially a thing. We've been distance for the past month. He probably just wants to wait until he sees me in person again.</p><p>***</p><p>I wake up at 6:00 am on the dot to get ready for my Friday class. The first thing I do is text Clay. </p><p>'dawn of the final day' 6:01 am</p><p>I'm nearly vibrating with excitement, not quite processing that it's been an actual, full month since we've gotten to see each other. It's so weird to me now that we used to go multiple months without hanging out in person, because now all I can think about is burying my face in Clay's fucking neck and just inhaling. </p><p>I'm extremely surprised when I get a reply.</p><p>'im already hard'<br/>'4 hours till i snap you in half' 6:02 am</p><p>I immediately laugh.</p><p>'nevermind'<br/>'just for that im staying home' 6:02 am</p><p>'sure, sure'<br/>'well if u change ur mind my door is unlocked and im sitting at home...'<br/>'just WAITING for some spare hole' 6:03 am</p><p>I laugh again, then nearly violently yawn before I respond.</p><p>'🔛🔝🔜🔄⤴️⤵️🔄⤴️⤵️' <br/>'why u awake so early?' 6:03 am</p><p>'haven't slept yet' 6:03 am</p><p>I roll my eyes at his reply, deciding I'm not responding to it.</p><p>I realize it's time to get up and get ready. I take extra care in the shower, douse myself in my favorite perfume, make sure everything on my body is soft and moisturized, then get ready.</p><p>I have an internal battle while standing at my closet: be cute, or be comfortable. </p><p>It's super early, I have class and a drive ahead of me... I lean in toward comfortable, but do my best to make it cute. </p><p>I land on a black high waist skirt, layer it over Clay's literally massive long sleeve shirt I swiped, taper my waist with a fat ass studded belt, and definitely put on black thigh highs with a leather-metal garter. </p><p>I am nothing if not a dumb whore. </p><p>I double down on the perfume, hoping it hasn't faded by the time I get to Clay's, knowing there's a full four hours between now and then. I'm beyond embarrassed as I put on my shoes, grab my bag, then have to go into my closet and grab the sex-box too. </p><p>Shit has never left my apartment.</p><p>Shit has never left my room. </p><p>***</p><p>Sitting through my class is actually torture. I keep my eyes glued to the clock like it owes me money, leg nervously jittering the entire time. </p><p>The literal second class is over I fly out of my seat and to my car. I have to take a steadying breath. I queue up my music, staring with WARDOGZ just to get me hype, and to distract me from my nerves. </p><p>I try to make the entire drive like that, music that's loud, distracting. But, at some point I take a turn toward horny and nostalgia. The best genre. </p><p>I'm scream singing my way through Bruises &amp; Bitemarks like it's the 2010's and I'm on my way to be sad in middle school. I'm at a red light when my phone dings.</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>2 New Messages<br/>'do i need to be concerned about your music choices'<br/>'not trying to be a stalker or anything but what the actual fuck are you listening to?' 9:14 am</p><p>I laugh aloud. </p><p>'you dont want to get bitten? 🤪' 9:14 am</p><p>'... yk actually i fw it'<br/>'if im getting rough with you today why dont you get rough right back?' 9:14 am</p><p>I feel my face start to warm as I read his text.</p><p>'what u think these nails are for daddy?' 9:14 am</p><p>I just barely manage to reply before the light turns green and I have to focus on driving again. </p><p>After that, I lose any semblance of a level-head I was pretending to have. I can feel the arousal burn in my stomach, like a persistent ache for the entire rest of the drive. It only gets stronger the closer I get, until I'm literally pulling into Clay's driveway taking a shuddered breath. </p><p>There's also something else in my stomach. A small fluttering emotion I'm choosing to ignore right now, for my own sanity. </p><p>I hop out, grab my bag, and grab the box. True to his word, Clay's front door is unlocked. I decide to slip in, see if I can go unnoticed. I enter as quietly as possible, then dump my stuff on the couch once I realize I'm going to get away with it.</p><p>Looking at the box, I have a brief idea, and decide to commit to it. I open the box, grab the collar, and put it on preemptively. It takes me another moment to collect myself before I call out. </p><p>"Clay? I'm here!" </p><p>There's an immediately large amount of noise that has me laughing. It's the sound of a man scrambling. I barely see Clay appear at the top of his stairs before I'm grinning, arms lifted, making grabby hands. </p><p>I melt when I see the way he lights up once his eyes catch on me. </p><p>We're both smiling like idiots, pleased little noises coming from both of us as Clay rushes down the stairs and charges me. </p><p>I don't even have a second before there's two arms wrapped around me, then I'm lifted with a yelp. I start laughing as I wrap my legs around Clay's back and he buries his face in my neck, dragging in a massive inhale. </p><p>I lift both hands to card them through his hair. We sway for just a moment, wrapped up in each other tight before Clay finally pulls back to look at me. I fluster under the attention, looking away as Clay searches my face with a soft expression. </p><p>"What?" I ask, grinning like an idiot. </p><p>Clay immediately grins back, shaking his head, then leans in to catch my mouth with his own.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. hurry up and take it slow (smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The kiss is tender for less than a second. I'm not sure who breaks first, but suddenly there's an insistency, desperation in the way our mouths stay locked. Our tongues slide together for only a moment, before Clay dominates it, pressing in hard enough that my head tilts back as I moan around his tongue.</p><p>One of Clay's hands drops from my waist, grabbing a handful of ass, and I can't help but moan again. He just barely laughs at me in return, right into my mouth. He pulls back just enough to bite my lip and I moan again.</p><p>This is starting to get... a little embarrassing. I pull back all the way. </p><p>"Yeah? You're sure proud of— ah" I'm interrupted as Clay reels his hand back and slaps my ass. I try my hardest to glare, seeing the smug expression on his face, but fail. I smile, and he only looks prouder. </p><p>I roll my eyes, then surge forward. I'll just take control a different way, then. I lock my mouth to his neck, pressing my teeth hard enough to hurt, likely bruising his skin.</p><p>Clay immediately shivers in my arms, moaning. I smile where I'm still pressed to his neck, then suck, leaving a harsh bruise. </p><p>"Fuck." Comes from Clay, and I have to pull back. </p><p>It's my turn to laugh, searching his expression. He's shaking his head, dragging his tongue along his lower lip. </p><p>"You know I'm gonna pay you back for that, right?" He says more than asks.</p><p>I tilt my head back, feeling everything go warm. <br/>"Do it then." </p><p>Clay nods, then I have only a second before we're moving. I feel my back connect with a wall, knocking out my air, before Clay presses himself completely flush to me. I have to tighten my legs around his back just to hold on.</p><p>Hello, daddy Clay.</p><p>I let out a breathy moan as Clay lifts himself and lowers me until he can grind between my legs. His mouth simultaneously lands on me, high on my neck, just under my jaw. </p><p>My hips rock into him as he nips then sucks, leaving a bruise of his own. He soothes the bite with his tongue and I feel myself clench on nothing. I needed this man to fuck me yesterday.</p><p>"You look so much better marked up." Clay mumbles, then presses back in, sucking another bruise. </p><p>This time my breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut. I focus on how warm his mouth is, his tongue already soothing as he makes each mark. I hear it when he pops off my neck this time. </p><p>I barely open my eyes enough to see him lean back, looking at me with a pleased hum. </p><p>"Sorry it's so high up. This is in the way." He says, then leans in to press a kiss over the collar.</p><p>I lower my lashes, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "Yeah? Do you like it?" I ask, rolling my hips against him.</p><p>Clay lets out another small moan, pressing into the sensation himself before chuckling, low. "It's cute." He leans in until his lips brush my ear. "But I can think of something else that might look better wrapped around your throat." </p><p>I can't help the pathetic whine I let out, high, needy. </p><p>Clay presses his face into the bend of my neck, laughing. I tilt my chin back, exposing my throat as an invitation, melting, too turned on to be embarrassed. His laugh dies off. </p><p>"Yeah? You want it that bad?" He asks.</p><p>I whine again, nodding, eyes threatening to close. </p><p>Clay makes a pleased noise around another predatory laugh, then carefully lowers me back to standing. I grip his shoulders, steadying myself. It seems like I'm standing for only a second before I feel his hand brush up my body. He pushes under the collar and wraps his massive hand around my neck, just holding it there, pressure feather light. </p><p>He leans back in, catching my mouth for another kiss, then immediately tightens his hand. I moan into his mouth, eyes rolling back in my head. I shift both of my hands, one now holding the back of his neck, the other threading into his hair and pulling it.</p><p>Clay hums into the kiss, pushing a leg forward until his thigh is between mine, pressing it between my legs. His other hand goes up my skirt and around, grabbing my ass and pulling me closer, higher on his thigh. I immediately moan at the pressure between my legs, bucking my hips.</p><p>I try to moan again as his tongue pushes into my mouth, but it's cut off as his hand goes even tighter around my throat, forcing an exhale. </p><p>Oh my fucking God I like that. </p><p>A shiver passes through my body as I melt into Clay's manipulation, everything going soft and loose while still moving desperately, at least, as much as I can. His hand tightens again and I start to feel a fuzz in my brain from the oxygen deprivation, everything moving glacially slow. I feel his tongue in my mouth, but can hardly react to it, only managing to let out a whimper with what air I have left. </p><p>Suddenly Clay's hand relaxes and he shifts his mouth to my jaw. I immediately pull in a stuttered, heavy, gasp. It's like I snap back to my body, mewled moans dripping out of me. </p><p>I feel Clay smile against the skin of my throat, nipping again as I barely collect myself, pussy fluttering on nothing.</p><p>I moan again, high. "Clay please, I— please—" I want— I need him to fuck me, but words aren't exactly my strong suit in this position. </p><p>"Fuck." He starts, pressing even closer to my neck. "I told myself I was gonna take it slow, lay you out, fuck you out of your mind but oh my God—" </p><p>Suddenly he pulls everything back, hands tight under my skirt and on my hip. I'm flipped, pushed face first against the wall as Clay keeps pressed completely flush to my back, grinding against my ass. </p><p>"I'm just gonna fuck you just like this. I don't care." He says, low. </p><p>I barely have time to react, arching to present, turning to look back, before Clay's moving my panties to the side, pushing his middle finger inside of my pussy. The second he's inside there's another slap to my ass that makes me flinch. I moan, body feeling weak and warm, stomach tight with arousal. </p><p>I go completely lax, eyes fluttering as I focus on arching for him. "Just fuck me." I moan out. </p><p>Clay hums, then pushes in a second finger, curling both inside of me. His free hand finally leaves my ass to lift higher, curling around my throat from the back and holding. </p><p>"I gotta stretch you out, make sure you don't get hurt." He says, then leans in close enough that I can feel his breath. "I want you to feel good, baby." </p><p>His voice is soft, genuine, and it makes staying present a considerably more difficult task. "Please just— just fuck me just— please I—" I'm interrupted by another moan.</p><p>Clay leans in close enough to press a kiss to my cheekbone, then speaks. "C'mon. You've waited a month. You can wait just a little longer." </p><p>I mewl, pulling one hand off from where it's supporting me on the wall to thread it behind me and pull my skirt up for him, trying to convince him to go faster.</p><p>Clay laughs, low, quiet, pleased. "Christ." </p><p>Suddenly there's a third finger pushing inside of me, his hand on my throat going tight. </p><p>"Keep begging for it."</p><p>I nearly whimper, heart thumping in my chest. I knew we were going to be... different, but this is... </p><p>"Please. Please Clay— I need you inside of me please— please fuck me—" I start, begging for him, but the hand around my throat tightens again, cutting me off. </p><p>Still, I feel Clay's fingers retreat from inside of me as he swears under his breath. I crane my head over my shoulder, looking back as well as I can, seeing Clay shoving his waistband down and pulling his cock out, stroking up the length. I moan, happy, already pulsing, just fucking waiting. </p><p>"God, you're my little slut, huh?" He says, low. </p><p>I moan, nodding, feeling his fingers drag through my pussy again, collecting slick, then he holds me open. Suddenly there's pressure that's obviously the head of his cock, waiting at my entrance. </p><p>I mewl out one more: "Please." before there's movement, him slowly pushing inside of me. It feels similar to the first time, stretch nearly overwhelming again after so much time. </p><p>I tighten down immediately, milking his cock. Clay exhales a shuddered breath, nearly instinctively tensing the hand still curled around my throat. </p><p>"Baby, baby— baby— come on—" He moans out, still slowly pushing inside of me. "You're so— ah" He pauses, taking a deep breath. </p><p>Clay's free hand lands on me again, moving from my ass to my hip in a small soothing motion. </p><p>"Why are you so fucking tight—" He finally manages to moan out. For that, I clench again and get another moan from him in return.</p><p>He grunts, low, nearly a growl, then pushes inside of me with a real persistence, quickly bottoming out.</p><p>I let out a wailed moan, finally filled, clenching on Clay's cock with all I've got. </p><p>God, it feels good to have him inside of me again.</p><p>I let him know. </p><p>"You feel so fucking good— you feel— you feel so— Clay." I sigh out. </p><p>Clay grunts in response, gripping his hand on my hip to hold me in place. He slowly drags himself back, then snaps forward again. We moan in tandem, shifting as we find the position to do this, quick and dirty. </p><p>His hand on my neck adjusts, threading around the collar, hooking his fingers into it and using it to apply pressure to my throat. His other arm threads around my waist, supporting me. I keep one hand planted to the wall, the other still holding my skirt up, and now hooking into my panties, pulling them completely out of the way. </p><p>Clay leans in, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck, then starts moving his hips. Finally. </p><p>"Ah— ah— arch for me baby." He says around a moan, speeding his thrusts.</p><p>It feels like everything, warmth and pressure coiling in my stomach as his cock drags in and out of me. I arch as much as I physically can, rolling my hips to meet his movement. There's something hasty, desperate, about the way we're fucking. </p><p>Clay finds a rhythm quickly, snapping against me hard enough that we connect with an audible slap. </p><p>The sensation of him fucking me is overwhelming enough in and of itself, then his hand around my stomach shifts. It moves, going up my skirt and into my underwear, fingers pressing to my clit.</p><p>Suddenly it's like I don't know where to arch, letting out a breathy moan as I'm dually stimulated. I grit my teeth, feeling everything pull tight.</p><p>"Daddy please I—" I keen out, feeling embarrassed as the heat and pressure build in my stomach.</p><p>Clay immediately catches on, only snapping his hips harder, moving his fingers quicker. </p><p>"Already close, huh?" He asks, low, confident. </p><p>I whine, nodding, feeling a shiver build in my thighs as I crest over. I clench down tight, barely present enough to track the way it effects him as I cum, fluttering around his cock.</p><p>"Oh shit—" Clay starts, hips nearly stuttering to a stop. </p><p>The hand he has on my neck tracks up, threading into my hair and hooks in. I'm a mess of noise, pressing myself flush to the wall, barely holding myself up as I orgasm.</p><p>Clay tries to roll his hips again, moans of his own accenting every movement. </p><p>"Baby—" He sighs out, then pulls my hair, forcing me to look back at him. </p><p>"Say my name." </p><p>"Clay. Daddy." I moan back immediately, eyes struggling to focus, everything feeling butter soft. </p><p>"Good girl."</p><p>I see his lips quirk into the smallest of smiles, before he leans in, pressing a kiss to my shoulder over my— or I guess his— shirt. Suddenly, the hand he has resting between my legs twitches back to life, two fingers slowly circling my clit in a way that makes my body sing.</p><p>I'm tipped back into building pleasure after only a moment of oversensitivity, desperation for him to keep fucking me taking control. </p><p>"Look at me, baby." Clay demands, though his voice is breathy, almost quiet. </p><p>I try to do that for him, looking back over my shoulder, searching his face, but my eyes have to fight to stay open. My mouth on the other hand, won't close. My lips stay parted, moans accenting every single movement and thrust. </p><p>"Fuck—" Clay bites out, around a shuddered exhale.</p><p>I blink again, trying desperately to focus on his face, feeling my entire body bounce with the force he's using to fuck into me. </p><p>"Shit— I think I'm getting close—" He moans again, and it's all it takes to convince me to clench down, trying to make myself tighter, force him deeper. </p><p>"I want you to cum in me so fucking bad, daddy—" I moan, fucked out of my mind. </p><p>Clay swears under his breath again, his noises getting higher, needier. He tenses the hand he has in my hair, pulling it hard enough that my neck arches. He uses it to handle me in a position where he can just barely kiss me, pressing our lips half together for a sloppy kiss. </p><p>"Good fucking whore." He mumbles against my lips.</p><p>I feel myself flutter at the words, moaning pathetically into the kiss, melting for his voice. </p><p>Clay parts with a bite to my lip, moaning himself. Suddenly his hips slow, and I make a noise of protest. I use the moment to roll my hips again, reclaiming the rapid rhythm as I bounce back on his dick.</p><p>He pulls back with a guttural moan, tightening his grip on my hair, fingers between my legs speeding. </p><p>"Baby— oh my God— baby please—" He moans out, high, almost whiny. </p><p>My eyes roll back into my head, everything feeling like too much. I know I'm close to cumming again, warmth swinging low in my stomach, curling throughout my body, melting my brain. It makes my face heat with embarrassment. I try to turn back to the wall, but Clay isn't having it. </p><p>His hand in my hair pulls, hard, getting a desperate moan from me, until I'm forced to face him again. </p><p>"Look at me baby— c'mon—" He moans out, slowly starting to lose the rhythm, thrusts getting pointed, ragged. </p><p>"Say my fucking name, please I—" Clay starts, and I listen.</p><p>"Clay. Clay. Please. Please cum in me, you feel so fucking— ah—" I have to pause, just to moan, "Clay you feel so fucking good inside me I— daddy." I moan out, then have to stop, shiver building in my core. </p><p>I move my hand from my ass, reaching back to tap anything on him as a warning.</p><p>My teeth grit tight, and suddenly I'm cumming again, letting out an uninhibited, wailed moan. I become a warbled mess of noise, shaking, twitching, barely supporting myself as Clay's hands tighten again. </p><p>"Holy fuck—" He moans out, and I can feel his cock flex inside of me, thrusts going even more ragged. His hand lifts out of my underwear to my waist, pressing flat to my stomach.</p><p>"Hold on— hold on baby—" He chokes out, then his hips start to snap again, fucking his cock in and out of me with animalistic ferocity.</p><p>The sensation is completely overwhelming in my cum-spent, still-throbbing pussy, but there's nothing I can do but mewl and take it. </p><p>"Keep it tight— that's a good girl— make daddy cum, c'mon—" Clay moans out, and I know he's close.</p><p>I whine, arching and clenching with everything I've got. It seems to work, because suddenly his hips stutter, swears passing his lips like breath. </p><p>Clay's hips snap hard, then suddenly he presses himself flush to my back, pulling me by the hair so he can just barely catch my lips again. </p><p>We moan into each other's mouths as I feel his cock jerk inside of me, warmth flooding my stomach as he cums. Suddenly, the kiss turns glacial, both of our mouths lax with pleasure as we rock against each other. </p><p>Clay pulls back, and I whimper, lifting my face into the space he was. He doesn't leave me alone for long, dropping his head to my shoulder, letting out a shuddered breath as he rocks into me again.</p><p>"Good girl." He mumbles out, then just barely lifts enough to kiss the back of my neck. </p><p>His hand finally drops from my hair, that arm also curling around my waist to help support me. I whimper, completely spent, lax, melting. I'm not sure how much longer I can stand, shiver building in my thighs the longer I'm up. </p><p>I can feel Clay's breath, panted, hot on my neck as we melt into each other, fighting to come back to consciousness. The second I've regained the ability to function, I whimper. </p><p>"I know baby. I know. I've got you." Clay immediately mumbles back, shifting his hips to pull his softening cock out of me while simultaneously tightening his arms around me.</p><p>I mewl at the loss of him inside of me, though, it is somewhat relieving. I feel his cum start to leak and dart a hand down between my legs, trying to hold it in as it drools out. I barely lift off the wall, then suddenly Clay releases me. </p><p>I immediately whine, turning to face him, confused. I turn just in time to see him shed his shirt and drop to a crouch in front of me. </p><p>"I've got you. It's okay." He mumbles out and I melt, knowing it's true. </p><p>Clay's hand lands on my thigh, touch gentle, pushing my skirt back up. He pushes forward, using his shirt as a rag to clean his cum off of me. </p><p>It surprises me, making warmth and affection bloom in my chest. My eyes flutter as I stare down at him, just watching him take care of me. </p><p>He leans forward, holding me in place as he presses feather-light kisses to my thighs, looking up at me with a soft smile. </p><p>God it's... so much. It makes me feel so much.</p><p>I moan again, and Clay laughs, shifting back and up to standing. The second he's up his arms wrap around my waist, reeling me into him and supporting me. </p><p>I go completely lax, pressing my face into his chest and just breathing, mouthing against his skin.</p><p>"I'm gonna move us, that okay?" Clay asks after a moment. I nod into his chest, nearly whimpering.</p><p>Suddenly there's two hands on my ass, and I'm being lifted again. I barely find the presence of mind to wrap my legs around his back and loop my arms around his shoulders. </p><p>I lift just high enough to bury my face in his neck and drag in a steadying inhale. He smells like sweat, sex, Clay, and everything fucking right in the world. </p><p>I press an open-mouthed kiss to the skin there, and Clay makes a pleased noise, hands briefly tightening where they rest on my body. I mouth at his neck, barely paying attention to where we're at until I'm dumped out of his arms and into his bed.</p><p>I immediately make noises of protest, reaching into the space where he should be. </p><p>"Please Clay—" I moan out, desperate for continued affection. </p><p>He stares down at me, smiling, shaking his head. "Needy girl." He chastises, but the softness on his face tells me everything I need to know about how he really feels.</p><p>Clay follows me down, settling on top of me as I spread my legs, making room for him. The second he's on me I wrap my legs around his back, and lift both hands to hook in his hair, latching on. </p><p>He laughs again, burying his face in my neck, peppering kisses along my jaw. </p><p>"Missed my girl so much." He mumbles out, and I feel my stomach jump at the words, breath hitching. </p><p>His girl.</p><p>I want to reply something cute, or sweet, or verbal at all. Instead, I get out a "Hnnnn-" </p><p>Clay laughs into my neck again. "I'll take that as I missed you too." He says.</p><p>I whine, nodding. </p><p>We both relax, wrapped up in each other, just idly touching each other with soft affection before I find my voice again. </p><p>"Next time you might as well just fuck me in the driveway, Christ." I finally mumble out, and Clay immediately wheezes. </p><p>"Hey c'mon... you made it atleast 10 feet inside..." He teases.</p><p>I bite my lip. "Yeah? Well you made it several inches inside—" I say, teasing right back. </p><p>Clay groans. "I regret ever knowing you." He says. I make a noise of protest, slapping at him. </p><p>"Take it back!" I pout in false hurt.</p><p>Clay just keeps laughing where he's buried in my neck, like he can crawl inside and make a home there. He continuously reminds me that he's there, mouth— and teeth— insistent on my skin.</p><p>I finally have the mental capability to look around, wiggling against the mattress. I realize the texture is different and look down, seeing I'm laying on a towel. </p><p>I roll my eyes then slap his back. "Really Clay? The towel? You're so fucking cocky." </p><p>Still I feel my face flush with warmth and appreciation. He's... honestly... probably correct on this one. </p><p>"We'll see, huh?" Clay says, all confidence, all heat.</p><p>Despite already getting railed I feel arousal build in my stomach again.</p><p>"The way that just— you're right about me being a whore for you." I mumble back, then roll my hips against him.</p><p>Clay laughs, then pulls back off of me, despite the way I fight to keep him down. He shakes his head, staring at me with plain affection in his eyes. </p><p>"Did you want to do anything other than fuck while you're here?" He asks, smiling, teasing me.</p><p>I purse my lips and hum, pretending to think. "There are other things we can do? Name one..." </p><p>Clay grins, staring at me, leaning in to unbuckle my belt. I suck my lip into my mouth, watching his fingers move. </p><p>"Well we could also... maybe watch a movie..." He starts, unthreading my belt and dropping it, then hooking his thumbs into the waistband of my skirt and pulling.</p><p>My breath hitches, eyes fluttering as I lift my hips, watching him slide the skirt off of me. </p><p>"I— I—" I stutter for a moment, flustered, before I find my voice again. "I don't believe in movies." I say and Clay immediately laughs, pausing where he has my shirt already rucked halfway up my stomach, fingers brushing my abdomen. </p><p>"Like movies are a fucking conspiracy theory or something—" He says around a laugh. </p><p>I smile, pleased with myself, and sit up, helping him guide the shirt off. His laugh tapers back off, focus shifting on dragging his eyes along my body. </p><p>"Movies don't exist and you can't prove it otherwise." I say, and Clay's lips twitch again as he shakes his head.</p><p>His hands lift, threading behind me to unhook my bra and take it off of me, before his hand curls around my throat over the collar, guiding me to lay back down. </p><p>There's tension, heat, in the moment despite the dumb shit we're saying.</p><p>Both of his hands pull back to land on my thighs, pressing to the garter, slowly creeping higher. I know he was literally inside of me 15 minutes ago, but my stomach flutters with nerves. </p><p>His hands finish closing the distance, and hook into the garter, tugging it down. </p><p>"I like thigh highs as much as the next guy but— I want you completely naked." He says, sounding soft, genuine.</p><p>I take in a shuddered breath, and let him slide the garter, my panties, and the thigh highs off all in one smooth motion. </p><p>"You got what you wanted, then." I say, voice soft, low, careful, completely on display under him. </p><p>Clay's eyes roam, looking at me like it's his first time ever seeing me naked. He hums, seemingly pleased, then dips his head right to my chest. </p><p>Ah. I knew it was coming. </p><p>His mouth latches onto a nipple, tongue pressing it flat. I moan, rocking my hips, spreading my legs open. I decide to speak while I still can.</p><p>"I— I— I brought that box." I stutter out.</p><p>Clay pops off my breast with a furrowed brow. "What box?" He mumbles, before going right back in.</p><p>I fluster immediately. "Y'know... the box.. with all the sex shit." I mumble back, fighting a moan.</p><p>I see his face light up with the realization. He lifts up, making a happy noise, and presses a kiss to my cheek. </p><p>"Where?" He asks.</p><p>I swallow around my nerves, feeling my face heat. </p><p>"It's next to the couch on the floor. I put it with my bag." I reply.</p><p>Clay presses one more kiss to my chin then shoots up, a man on a mission. I curl up as I watch him go, suddenly a lot more self-conscious of my nudity now that he isn't here to view it. </p><p>I fumble around the mattress, looking for a blanket. I find one and almost put it on, but think better of it, knowing Clay'd probably laugh his ass off if he came back and I was cocooned.  </p><p>I swallow nervously as he walks back in, box opened, studying it like it holds the secrets of the universe. He walks right up to the bed, lifting a single knee to half-rest, still looking through the box. </p><p>I hum, rolling over until I'm close enough to touch, then do. I lift one of my hands, pawing at Clay. His eyes flicker toward me for just a second, small smile quirking his lips as he leans in and forfeits a single hand for me to occupy myself with. </p><p>I immediately wrap both hands around it, dragging it up to my face and kissing along the length of his fingers. I think I might be in love with his hands. </p><p>He sets the box down on his lifted knee, balancing it there. I see him glance at me, expression twisting in amusement. </p><p>"What are you doing?" He asks.</p><p>I keep going, mouthing at his fingertips. "Oh nothing..." I press another kiss. "Nothing at all...." another kiss, before I pause to look at him with raised brows. "What are you doing?" </p><p>He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. He tries to make eye-contact but fails, gaze shifting to watch as I part my lips, still teasing.</p><p>"I was just—" He starts, but I open my mouth, pressing my tongue forward and dragging it along his fingers. I see him blink, completely silent, before his brain catches back up. </p><p>"I—I... I was—" He stops again, mouth staying parted, brow drawing tight as he focuses in on me taking his fingers into my mouth, staring up at him.</p><p>"Shit..." He says, soft, nearly a whisper, then catches up again. He pushes his hand forward, fucking my mouth with his fingers as I curl my tongue around the digits. </p><p>He blinks again, rapid fire, then finally forms a sentence. "I was— I was trying to figure out what to use first— oh my God, baby."  He finishes with a sharp inhale.</p><p>I smile around his fingers and pop off them with a small laugh. </p><p>"Calm down, big man." I say, going back to playing with his hand using only my fingers, feeling particularly smug. </p><p>Clay rolls his eyes. "Calm down— I'll—" He sighs, sentence forgotten, then goes back to looking in the box. </p><p>I chew the insides of my cheeks, starting to get impatient. "Just pick something. I'll let you use all of it eventually. C'mon."</p><p>His eyes flick back up to my face, brows raised.</p><p>"Be patient."</p><p>I tuck my face into my shoulder, embarrassed, wondering if I'm being annoying. Still, he shakes his head, curling into a pleased smile. </p><p>Clay hums, finally reaching in. "I think I know what I want now." </p><p>My breath hitches as I watch him hook his fingers into two items, rope and blindfold. He drops them to the mattress and steps back, leaving the box on his desk. </p><p>"I want..." he starts, approaching. I flick my gaze down to his lap, seeing he's already hard. </p><p>Clay leans in, cupping my face. I part my legs to make room. He accepts, getting on the mattress, kneeling between my legs and dropping both hands to hold my thighs. </p><p>"I want to go slow." He says, eyes dropping to drag up my body. "And I mean real slow."</p><p>I furrow my brow in confusion. We've been talking about being rough this isn't—</p><p>"Can I edge you?"</p><p>Oh?</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Oh—</p><p>"I want to hear you beg me for permission to finish." Clay says, voice lower, rougher, as he leans in over me. "Since you're always cumming so fucking fast."</p><p>I literally moan. God I'm so weak for this man. </p><p>Clay starts laughing. "I'm not even— touching you—"</p><p>"It was hot. So I reacted." I pout, embarrassed.</p><p>Clay keeps laughing, leaning in to trace my jaw with his mouth, pressing kisses as he goes. I fight it at first, still pouting, but eventually just melt, lifting my hands to dig my nails into his shoulders and hang on. </p><p>I feel my eyes already fluttering, embarrassed how ready I am to go again. His hand shifts between us, moving between my legs, two fingers pushing inside of me with no resistance. I gasp, arching into it, digging my nails in harder. </p><p>I feel Clay moan against my neck before he pulls back. "I'm gonna tie your hands above your head, blindfold you, and use my mouth. I'm not stopping until you cry." He says, low.</p><p>It makes my entire body go tight and warm, heat and arousal unfurling in my abdomen, out, mixed with nerves.</p><p>I don't have time to react before Clay's collecting my wrists, pushing them above my head. I stutter out a quick breath, nerves taking over, anxiety immediately overwhelming me.</p><p>"Hold on— hold on—" I start, trying to steady myself.  </p><p>Clay drops my hands, leaning back, brow furrowed, but keeps his fingers inside of me. He looks concerned, lips parted as he makes an aborted motion to reach for me. </p><p>"You ok?" He asks.</p><p>I snort a laugh. Priorities. </p><p>I half lift myself, shoving his hand out of me. "I said hold on Mr. Gator." </p><p>His brow immediately furrows, but he splits into a smile. "What?" He asks, starting to laugh. </p><p>"I think we should have a little conversation before we jump into this 'not stopping' business." I say, brows raised.</p><p>Clay ducks his head, face going red, looking sheepish. "Too far?"</p><p>I shake my head no, with a small noise, lifting to press a kiss to his lips. He takes a second to catch on, but eventually does, melting into it, cupping the back of my head. </p><p>"Not too far..." I mumble out, then press another kiss, honestly trying to soothe myself. "I just think I need an out." </p><p>"Oh, I know this one—" He says back, interrupting himself to push back into the kiss. "A safeword: pog. God I'm so smart."</p><p>I laugh at him, pulling out of the kiss, slapping his chest. "Never mind. No more hole for you—" </p><p>I see him split into a massive grin, corner of his eyes crinkling. "No. You have to say the safeword or I won't stop." He says, and plants both hands on my ribcage. </p><p>He's so cute like this.</p><p>I yelp around my laughs, thrashing to get away as he holds me in place. "I'm fucking dry now. I hate you so much. My pussy is literally withered—" </p><p>Clay just keeps laughing, holding me in place. "Pog for no, poggers for yes, pogU for—" He literally moans, "Harder daddy." </p><p>I start laughing in a way that makes it hard to breathe. "Fuck you—" I slap at him aggressively, but he keeps me pinned, looking insanely proud of himself.</p><p>I give up.</p><p>"FINE. Pog!" I half-shout, and Clay's hands immediately retract.</p><p>I shake my head, still laughing. I hate how stupid he is but... I'll admit that it helped, quite a bit actually in soothing my nerves. I'm relaxed again, comfortable even. </p><p>"I just—" I start, nearly wheezing. "Imagine you're hittin' it and I'm just: oh fuck! Poggers daddy! PogU! Poggers!"</p><p>Clay immediately snorts, sitting back on his heels so he can laugh himself. "I'm about to finish, get up close to your ear and—" He leans in, doing exactly that. "Fuck— I lost, baby. I lost inside you." </p><p>I have to close my eyes, going completely limp. </p><p>"Please die." I mumble. </p><p>Clay pulls back, laughing again. "Sorry— sorry. Fine. Safeword, we're picking a safeword." He says, getting us back on track. </p><p>I roll my eyes, lifting both of my hands to curl them around each of his wrists where his hands are planted on my ribcage again. I chew the inside of my cheek, thinking. We speak simultaneously as inspiration hits. </p><p>Me first: "Strawberry?"</p><p>"Arizona?" He says next. </p><p>I ooh at that, brows lifting. "I like Arizona." I say.</p><p>Clay smiles. "Strawberry is cute. You're cute." He follows.</p><p>I feel overwhelmed by that. I cover it with a grimace. "Ew... Arizona it is then." </p><p>He immediately protests— "What— what's wrong with calling you cute?" </p><p>I look off to the side, huffing a sigh, now just fucking with him. "Nothing I suppose..." I say, then sigh again.</p><p>Clay grunts, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him. I see his face scrunched up in genuine concern and break into a grin. I watch him realize, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a frustrated sigh. </p><p>"Fine. Arizona. We agree?" He says, pulling his hand back.</p><p>I nod, then put my hands together, lifting them above my head. "Yeah. Now come clean this plate, Clay." I say, biting my lip to stifle a laugh. </p><p>He snorts a laugh of his own, but follows me up, grabbing the rope. The humor of the situation quickly fades, replaced with heat as I realize: we're really doing this. </p><p>Clay sucks in his lower lip, brows drawing together in focus as he ties my hands together. I take in a shuddered breath, barely gathering the courage to look up as he lifts and ties them to the bed frame. </p><p>"How's that?" He asks.</p><p>I nod, pulling my wrists tight to test the restraints as Clay watches. There's a just-right amount of give to it, but it seems stable. </p><p>"Good, I think." I say back. </p><p>Clay immediately flicks his gaze down to my face. We make eye-contact that leaves me flustered, heart rabbiting in my chest as I think about the position I'm in. His hand lifts to cup my face, thumb dragging along my cheek. He leans in, pressing a particularly soft and slow kiss that has me melting. </p><p>"Relax baby. I've got you." He mumbles against my lips, then presses another feather-soft kiss.</p><p>I moan into it, nodding, already struggling with speech. </p><p>"I'm gonna blindfold you now, then I'm gonna start touchin' you, okay?" He says next.</p><p>I nod again, around a mewled moan. </p><p>Clay hums, "Not good enough this time. I need to hear you say yes." </p><p>I swallow a noise, shivering. "Yes. Please." I barely manage to say.</p><p>"Good girl." He says back, soft and low, then lifts the blindfold to cover my eyes. </p><p>I flutter my eyes under it, blinking, seeing... not shit. </p><p>"Comfortable?" Clay asks, and I turn my head, like I can follow his voice, probably looking like an idiot.</p><p>"Y-yeah. I'm alright." I stutter out.</p><p>I can hear the shifting of fabric, feel the bed dip with his shifting weight, still, I twitch in surprise when I feel something brush my breast. </p><p>"I should've known..." I mumble out around a moan as Clay's mouth latches on, harshly sucking. Still, it feels fantastic. </p><p>Clay laughs against my skin. "I don't know what you mean..." He says, then dives right back in, scraping his teeth down my nipple.</p><p>I want to tease further, but the sensation is starting to overwhelm. I instinctively try to bring my hands down to card them through his hair, and just end up tugging at the restraints. </p><p>Right. I'm tied to the fucking bed frame.</p><p>I let out a shuddered exhale that turns into a moan as Clay switches to my other breast, sucking a bruise into the skin. My eyes instinctively flick back into my head as his mouth dips lower, trailing down my ribs, hot.</p><p>I want to pull his hair so fucking bad. I tilt my hips up, like a question, or maybe a demand.</p><p>Clay lifts both hands to my hips, keeping me pinned down to the mattress. I expect a behave, or a relax, but get nothing. Suddenly his mouth is off of me, thumbs pressing into my hips and slowly rubbing the skin there. </p><p>I swallow nervously, a moan caught in my throat, heart rate increasing the longer I go without contact from his mouth. </p><p>I'm about to ask, when I feel his lips land on my thigh, pressing a kiss as his hands on my hips adjust, thumbs trailing down to hold me open.</p><p>Suddenly my legs go tight, feet curling as I wait for the contact. I feel his lips drag down my thigh, then he pauses, breath hot on my pussy as he just waits. I flutter on air, waiting myself.</p><p>"Clay... please." I sigh out, bucking my hips again. </p><p>He hums, voice deep. One of his thumbs adjusts, and suddenly there's pressure on my clit, barely moving. He's just toying with me, no intent, no chase, playing with my pussy for the fun of it. </p><p>I whine, stomach clenching tight. The sensation is just enough to make me flutter, squirming against the mattress, but provides no real pleasure. </p><p>"C'mon— this is just— this is m— ah—" I'm interrupted with a breathy moan as I suddenly feel his mouth again, tongue dragging through my pussy, slowly, just once, then he pulls back with a laugh.</p><p>"Fuck you." I mewl out, stomach absurdly tight. </p><p>I feel his tongue again, arching as he drags it through, flat, curling the tip just as he reaches my clit. The volume of the moan I let out is... absurd, honestly, for the amount of stimulation received.</p><p>"Sensitive little whore." Clay mumbles out. </p><p>I moan for it. Because I am.</p><p>The hand he isn't using to hold me open shifts up to my stomach, fingers brushing my skin feather-light, following natural dips and curves of my body. </p><p>"C'mon, Clay—" I moan out, starting to get frustrated. </p><p>He laughs again. "No. You're gonna wait." </p><p>Still, I feel the hand between my legs shift again, tip of his thumb pushing into me teasingly shallow. I buck my hips for it, forcing him to push the whole thing in.</p><p>Clay grunts, pulling the hand back and lifting my leg so he can slap my ass. "What the fuck did I just say?" He says, voice low. </p><p>It makes my stomach tighten again, but I feel excitement build in my throat. I want to push him further, mouth opening to speak, but he speaks first. </p><p>"Tell me when you're going to cum." </p><p>Suddenly there's pressure between my legs, Clay's tongue curling around my clit fast and hard. I'm confused, but not complaining. </p><p>My hips buck wildly, trying to ride his tongue, but he's quicker, lifting both hands to pin me to the mattress and keep me in place.</p><p>The pace is punishing, making my thighs shake with the effort, dragging along the sheets as I shake and twitch in oversensitivity. I feel the pressure start in my stomach and let out a sated sigh. </p><p>Clay moves with intent, dipping his tongue to briefly curl it inside of me then back up, lathing my clit. My stomach tenses again, and I shudder.</p><p>"I'm close—" I whimper, pressing toward his mouth. </p><p>Suddenly, there's nothing.</p><p>I whine, lifting my hips, squirming against the mattress. I can still feel his breath, chasing it with my body, but making contact with nothing, pulsing on air.</p><p>"Please..." I whimper out, arching, pulling at my tied wrists.</p><p>Clay laughs, and his hand finds its way back to me, planting low on my stomach, thumb just resting against my clit. </p><p>"Are you gonna behave this time?" He asks, sounding smug.</p><p>I nod, though I don't know if he's looking. "Yes sir." </p><p>There's no verbal response from Clay, but his tongue presses back in, dragging through my pussy, slow, intentional. He hums, pleased, and I feel it, still sensitive, still close to cumming. </p><p>Clay's hands land back on my hips, holding me still as he starts to fuck me with his tongue, again. I know I'm melting, verbal, liquifying into the mattress, only responding with well timed twitches in my thighs, no longer allowed to buck my hips.</p><p>I pull the bindings on my hands tight again as he presses his tongue in deep, mewling. I feel the familiar pressure of my orgasm, threatening to happen. </p><p>"Clay—" Is all I get out before he pulls off, pressing his mouth to my stomach again. </p><p>Despite knowing it was going to happen, I whimper, feeling the sensation fade. I want to cum. </p><p>Clay drags his lips along my stomach, to my hips, down my thighs, kissing along the way. What feels too soon, and not soon enough, he presses back in, moaning himself as I moan, unable to control the way I buck to meet his mouth. </p><p>I'm constantly fluttering now, everything feeling warm and tight, as Clay's tongue drags through my pussy. My thighs start shaking this time, wobbled moan low in my throat as I barrel toward my orgasm. I try to warn again.</p><p>"I'm— ah—" I'm interrupted with a moan.</p><p>Still, Clay pulls off, laughing low as I nearly sob, completely gone, pulling my wrists tight enough to hurt. </p><p>"You're shaking." He says, sounding gone himself. </p><p>I moan, stomach clenching and unclenching in a rhythm. Clay presses back in before it feels like I've had a second to breathe, tongue first. </p><p>I have to grit my teeth, thighs and stomach going completely tight as my body tries to roll into my orgasm. </p><p>"Please." I whimper out. </p><p>He pulls off again. </p><p>I let out a warbled moan, everything pulling hard enough that I get light-headed. I take in a steadying breath, feeling my heart in my throat. </p><p>With no warning, suddenly, there's the pressure of two fingers sinking into me and curling. I clench down hard, moans coming out stuttered, constant. </p><p>Clay makes a low noise. </p><p>"You're so desperate to cum aren't you? You little fucking slut." He says, low.</p><p>I nod, pulling my arms again, barely present in my body. "Please, please, please, Clay, Please—" I repeat like a mantra, constant.</p><p>"No." He says back. "You're gonna hold out longer." The way he says it is quiet, though I know it's a command.</p><p>I bite my lip, whine high in my throat as I nod. I don't dare to speak, knowing it will be a warbled mess of begging and his name. </p><p>Clay pushes back in with a quick flick of his tongue before he presses it flat, movement slow, teasing. Still, my sensitivity is enough to make it enough. My thighs pull completely tight, pressure in my stomach sharp. </p><p>"Please let me cum." I manage to beg out, and Clay moves off again, kissing my thigh instead. </p><p>I let out a shuddered breath. "It hurts." I whine. </p><p>He laughs, quiet, low. "I know."</p><p>My eyes roll back in my head as his tongue makes contact this time, tears pricking in the corners of my eyes, wrists pulled tight enough to hurt. I feel the pressure building, and nearly sob, knowing I have to warn him. Before I even can, he pulls off, scraping his teeth against my hip. </p><p>I'm barely conscious of the moan I let out, desperate, unashamed. "Please daddy—" I choke out around a whimper. </p><p>Clay presses a soft kiss to my stomach, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs, shushing me. </p><p>"You can cum this time." He says, soft, then presses back in. </p><p>I let out a nearly constant stream of noise, hips bucking, entire body tight. I can feel his tongue between my legs, feeling like it's setting alight every nerve on my body, burn and pressure in my stomach branching into my limbs. </p><p>"I—" I barely moan out, seeking approval despite already having permission. </p><p>Clay hums, moving his tongue faster for me. I take it as permission enough, entire body pulling tight as I finally crest over into a climax, the low throb becoming the only thing I can feel as my entire body melts. </p><p>The head rush is enough to make me see stars, vision fading into black for just a moment as I lose control of my body. I can't even hear or process the amount of noise I'm making.</p><p>Clay's tongue stays persistent between my legs, dragging me through my orgasm, until it's too much. I arch my hips away, trying to get him away from my hyper-sensitive pussy, entire body feeling weak and unsteady from the strength of my orgasm.</p><p>But he chases. </p><p>"Please, Clay." I mewl out, back to begging, hips jerking as I struggle under him. </p><p>Clay pulls me back to him, keeping me in place with his mouth locked between my legs like it belongs there. He takes me through the desperate over-sensitivity, back into building pleasure, until I'm panting and rolling against his mouth again.</p><p>Then, he finally pulls off. </p><p>I feel vulnerable, raw, completely fucking gone. </p><p>"Clay, please—" I start begging again, at a loss for anything else. </p><p>"What do you want, baby?" He asks, voice finally tender. </p><p>I respond before I can even think. "You." I take a shuddered breath. "You, just you. Please, Clay." </p><p>Clay makes a wild noise, hands landing on me, feeling like they're everywhere all at once, warm, massive, rough. </p><p>I arch toward him, feeling his cock press between my legs, though it doesn't seem like it's his focus. His hands are quick, pulling off the blindfold. </p><p>I blink rapidly, eyes adjusting for only a second, seeing I'm looking up at Clay's chest. My eyes flick higher, and I see he's unthreading the rope on my wrists. My arms fall the second they're untied, numb. I flex my fingers, trying to get blood flow back. </p><p>I'm still gone as Clay comes down, locking our mouths together. I keep my eyes open for just a moment, brain not functioning, before I manage to catch up, eyes fluttering shut, starting to move against his mouth, lifting my hands to rest them on his shoulders. </p><p>I moan when I feel Clay's hand wrap around my throat, surprised, but all he does is pop the collar, taking it off and setting it aside.</p><p>"It's just me and you baby." He mumbles out, planting a hand on my waist to hold me in place. "Just me and you." </p><p>I let out a small noise, struggling to find anything to say that I even could say. </p><p>Clay pulls back, pushing on my thigh, opening me and lining himself up. He sighs in relief as he pushes into me. I watch his face go lax, mouth parting. He rolls his hips once, slow, deep, and I melt, moaning wanton, eyes falling shut. </p><p>Clay comes back down on me, keeping the same tender pace as he presses his face into my neck, muffling his own moans. </p><p>"Such a perfect girl..." He sighs out. </p><p>It makes my heart thump, everything going loose. I don't know if I'm going to cum again. I don't know if I can cum again, but I hold on tight, digging my nails into Clay's shoulders, keeping myself relaxed for him, throbbing on his cock.</p><p>I can at least appreciate the closeness.</p><p>We're both slick with sweat, wrapped up in each other, all breath, everything unspoken thumping in my chest as he keeps his face buried in my neck, rolling his hips leisurely, like he has all day.</p><p>Which, I guess, he does. He has all weekend. </p><p>I'm surprised when I feel the pressure start to build in my stomach. I'm actually going to cum again, even at this pace. I tilt my face, nuzzling against the side of Clay's head, just breathing. I part my legs, rocking my hips, dripping out a moan right into his ear. </p><p>Clay immediately lets out a pleased hum. "Yeah? That feel good?" He asks, adjusting to thrust a bit deeper.</p><p>I moan again, eyes fluttering, chin tilting back as he latches onto my neck, nipping at the skin. Despite the way they're shaking, I manage to lift my legs, wrapping them around his back so he can fuck me as deep as possible.</p><p>I immediately feel the angle change, a whiny moan vibrating my throat as I suddenly feel fuller, more connected, Clay's stomach completely flush with mine. </p><p>"You feel fucking amazing under me like this." Clay sighs out, like an admission, his thrusts starting to speed up, chasing. </p><p>I get one, "Please daddy." out, before Clay shifts, locking our lips together, pushing his tongue into my mouth, forcing my head back into the mattress. </p><p>I feel the tenderness and ache branch in my stomach, causing me to throb, clenching on his cock. We moan into each other's mouths as I cum, clenching down hard enough that Clay has to break the kiss to breathe. </p><p>My body doesn't pull tight this time, instead going completely lax, everything feeling warm, soft, numb.</p><p>"There it is..." Clay moans out. </p><p>I look up to see him lifting himself to look down at where his cock is still dragging in and out of me, flexing while inside. I can tell he's close, despite the amount of restraint he's maintaining. </p><p>I shift my hips again, feeling particularly damp, and suddenly realize what Clay was talking about. I squirted again.</p><p>Damn. He was right.</p><p>I let out a desperate moan, tilting my head back as Clay's thrusts start again, rough, ragged, chasing his orgasm. It doesn't take long before the roll of his hips is staggered, distracted, and he comes back down, meeting me for a kiss.</p><p>I'm still completely melted when I hear Clay let out a stuttered shout, hips snapping hard enough to push us up the sheets for just a moment, burying himself as deep as he can get before he cums with a guttural moan. </p><p>I lift to catch it, holding onto him as tight as I can, swallowing his moans as our mouths drag together. Clay nearly whimpers, abdomen flexing where it's pressed flush with my stomach, shivering through the aftershocks of his orgasm.</p><p>I drag my hands across his shoulders, touch soothing  him as we rock against each other, both too gone to split. My lips are numb from the time we've spent kissing, but we stay locked, breath shared, barely moving. </p><p>Clay's the one that eventually breaks it, pulling back to let out a shuddered exhale. </p><p>"Holy, fuck." He bites out, and I laugh, tugging at his shoulders to try and bring him back down.</p><p>"I think I saw God for a second there." Clay says, and I see his lips quirk into a smile, eyes half-lidded.</p><p>I pull into a smile of my own. "Yeah? Is there a mirror in here?" I ask.</p><p>Clay finally laughs back, shifting his hips to pull out of me, sitting back on his knees.</p><p>"Lift your hips baby." He says, surprisingly soft.</p><p>I try, and fail, legs and core trembling. "I-I don't think I can." I mumble back, feeling embarrassed. "I'm sorry..." My arms curl up, covering my chest. </p><p>Clay leans over, pressing a kiss to my knee. "It's ok. I've got you." He says, soft, then threads an arm around my waist, helping me lift off the towel. </p><p>He takes a clean part of it, and wipes me down, then himself. He looks at the towel, like he's considering just throwing it.</p><p>"Do not put that on the floor." I warn him, and he shakes his head. </p><p>"I'll do what I want. It's my floor." Clay says back, grinning. </p><p>Still, he drags himself up to standing, slowly moving toward his actual laundry basket, and tossing it in. He stops at his closet, hopping into a fresh pair of boxers and snagging me a shirt, before immediately coming back. He kneels back onto the mattress, between my legs, guiding me to sit up, manhandling me into the shirt despite my protests.</p><p>I lay back down with a huff, in the shirt. He follows me down, flopping on top of me, burying his face in my chest. I make a pleased noise as his arms wrap around me, feeling warm and safe.</p><p>"Clay blanket." I mumble out, brain still melted. "Claynket."</p><p>Clay snorts into my chest for that, lifting his head to drag kisses along my collarbone and shoulder over the shirt. I'm surprised how soft the moment becomes, sincere tenderness buzzing between us. </p><p>I watch as Clay's gaze flicks up. He looks lost, hesitant, mouth opening and closing like he's carefully choosing his words. </p><p>"I think... I think I might..." He starts, eyes flicking back and forth, having trouble maintaining eye contact. The words seem... heavy.</p><p>I feel my heart skip a beat. I decide whatever is happening is too much for me to handle right now, barely even present, and crack a joke to break the tension.</p><p>"Thanks for the sex king. That was super poggers. Now can you please go back to explaining all of the Minecraft lore?" I say.</p><p>I feel the tension melt, Clay laughing as he shakes his head, the unspoken words melting away. "So Herobrine, right?" He starts, tagging onto the joke.</p><p>I immediately laugh, slapping at his shoulders, met with him wheezing back as he buries into my chest. There's a moment of silence, no tension.</p><p>Clay breaks it, yawning. "I still haven't slept." He mumbles out. </p><p>I nearly yelp. "What?! Hello?! Go to fucking sleep." I chastise. </p><p>He mumbles against my chest, nuzzling in deeper. "How could I sleep? I'm in coochie land."</p><p>My brow furrows, mouth pulling into a grimace. "You're such a dumbass."</p><p>Clay makes a noise back. "No. I'm—" He starts and I sigh, eyes rolling back into my head, knowing exactly what's coming. "—the coochie man." He finishes.</p><p>I let out a disgusted noise, lifting both hands to gently scratch his back and lure him into sleep. It works immediately, Clay shuddering and moaning, going completely limp on top of me. I feel my face melt into an affectionate smile. I hate how much he can make me feel, just by existing. </p><p>I keep my nails perfectly light, scratching Clay's back, soothing him to sleep, relaxing under him myself. </p><p>I look at his lax face, feeling my stomach flutter, everything strung high as my brain kicks into overdrive.</p><p>That...</p><p>That was relationship sex. </p><p>That was saying 'I love you' after sex. </p><p>I think Clay knows it, too, and I'm not sure how to handle that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. close (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's already 6 pm and Clay's still asleep.</p><p>I was woken up at least an hour ago when Patches wormed her way between us and kneaded me hard enough to draw pin prick blood. Now I'm just chilling, her curled against me with her face mashed in my neck, Clay curled against me with his face mashed in my neck. </p><p>I guess I must be warm, soft, maybe even comfortable. </p><p>I hum, idly scrolling my phone, trying to distract myself from thinking, but it's hard to stop. This... whatever me and Clay keep doing is... getting heavier, harder to maintain. </p><p>I don't want to just fuck anymore. I really don't. </p><p>I flick my eyes down as Clay mumbles. I watch him press his whole face into me and Patches, like he can crawl inside and live between us. I lift a hand to the back of his head, dragging my nails through his hair, half petting him. </p><p>Mans must be tired as hell. </p><p>Clay's head adjusts again, coming up for air, no longer buried. I immediately lift my phone and angle for a picture. His mouth is parted, face lax, and he's literally drooling. </p><p>I feel bad for just a second, but decide I'm not passing the opportunity, even for drooly boy. I take a burst, and lift my phone back to my face. I coo at the picture, it's got all three of our faces in it. </p><p>It makes me feel warm, yet tight. </p><p>Why do I have this picture? Why am I in so deep for someone who isn't even dating me? </p><p>I sigh, in my head again. George said an entire month ago that Clay's definitely always had a thing for me. But, to me, if that were true, we wouldn't be doing what we're currently doing, still.</p><p>I have to write it off, blaming it on the fact that we haven't had time to talk at all yet, having been... occupied since I got here.</p><p>Still, being pressed under him like this suddenly becomes overwhelming as my emotions surge. I need out. I wriggle, bothering both Clay and Patches who make noises of protest as I displace them to get free.</p><p>Patches hops off, completely leaving the room, now annoyed with me. But Clay... Clay makes things harder. His arms lift on instinct, wrapping around me and keeping me in place. It's only more overwhelming like this, as he mashes his face back into my neck.</p><p>I huff a sigh, trying to wiggle away, when Clay moans, tightening around me like a vice. </p><p>"Love you." He mumbles out.</p><p>I completely freeze up, heart rabbiting in my chest as I look down at his face, seeing it's still totally lax. He moans again, and I come to the conclusion that he's still knocked out, fucking sleep talking. </p><p>It makes my stomach hurt with embarrassment that I thought he could've been saying it consciously for even a second. </p><p>I pry his arms off of me, much more aggressively, and get out of his bed as quickly as I can, rushing out of the room, feeling tension hollow me out. </p><p>Why is this so hard? For no reason?</p><p>I make my way downstairs to Clay's living room, going straight for my bag, and pull my laptop out. I flip it open and slam down on his couch.</p><p>I'm desperate enough for a distraction that I'm going to do homework. Like actually. </p><p>I feel a tremble in my bottom lip that I have to swallow. A bitch will not be crying over this. I navigate to Youtube, put on some music, and dive-in, losing myself in the focus, letting my emotions fade.</p><p>***</p><p>After maybe an hour, I'm startled by a thump at my side, looking up. I see Clay rounding the stairs, dragging his hand down to rub sleep from his face. </p><p>"Sorry I slept so long." He mumbles out, voice still laden with sleep. </p><p>I nod, suddenly unsure of the steadiness of my voice as Clay approaches and cranes his neck, looking at my screen, getting absurdly close.</p><p>"What is that?" He asks.</p><p>I try to shift away. "Homework...?" I answer, wondering if he sincerely forgot I'm enrolled in college. </p><p>Clay looks up, smiling. He tries to meet my eyes but I quickly look away, nerves taking over. </p><p>"You hungry? I'll order food." He says, then makes a noise, leaning in to touch me. </p><p>I jerk away from the touch, then immediately flush hot with embarrassment. "Up to you." I manage to mumble out.</p><p>"Uh..." Clay starts, and I dart my eyes up to see his brow is furrowed. "Anything you wanna eat?" He questions, then makes another reach toward me that he stops midway. </p><p>"Not really." I reply. </p><p>Clay grunts, then flops down on the couch next to me, leaning in and pushing an arm under me so he can wrap me in his hold. </p><p>I shift nervously, swallowing around my tongue, body pulled tight. It's going to be hard to get out of this one without making it absurdly obvious.</p><p>"Why are you—" Clay starts.</p><p>I interrupt, squirming. "Sorry— I'm just balls deep in this assignment right now, so I'm kinda focused..." I slap at his shoulders, trying to get him off. </p><p>Clay's brows raise, and he lets out a tense sigh, staring me down despite the way I can't maintain eye-contact for even a second. I guess I didn't do a very good job being convincing. </p><p>The song on my laptop ends, and it automatically changes to something slow, soft. It feels like irony. </p><p>I see Clay's face relax as he listens to it, still staring me down. I find some resolve, and look up at him, maintaining the eye-contact despite the way my heart thumps. </p><p>Sometimes I wish you knew<br/>But I disguise the truth</p><p>The lyrics of the song roll in and my eyes drop again. Clay hums low, quiet, along with it.</p><p>"I remember this." He whispers, then plucks my laptop off of me while I stay frozen. "You played it in the car right? Said it'd be the first song on your sex playlist?"</p><p>Suddenly, I remember that too, and nod, staring down at my lap. "Yeah. This is the slowed version." I hesitate for a moment. "Changes the vibe alot." </p><p>He waits a moment longer, listening, then nods. "Yeah. It really does." </p><p>Suddenly Clay's up and off of me, putting my laptop to the side, a single hand extended in front of my face. </p><p>"Get up. C'mon." He says, quiet. </p><p>I don't want to, only because of how much I want to. I'm not going to be able to handle this. Still, I take the hand and lift to my feet. </p><p>One of Clay's hands immediately presses to the small of my back, bringing my body flush to his. I feel delicate, fragile almost in the way he's handling me. I hesitate for just a moment before I lean forward, pressing my cheek to his chest and curling my arms around his back, melting against him. </p><p>I can let myself have this.</p><p>Clay's other hand lifts to my face, tucking a loose strand of hair before he leans in to press a kiss to the top of my head. He stays there, lips planted on me, thumb dragging along my cheek, and we start to sway. </p><p>It's... gutting. </p><p>But, I let myself feel the moment. Slow dancing with him like an idiot in his shirt, in his house, in his arms. </p><p>But I can't make a scene, <br/>but I can't make a scene</p><p>I have to close my eyes, letting myself go lax, trying to hide from my own thoughts. Maybe we don't have to be more. Maybe this can be enough. </p><p>At least like this... at least... </p><p>I feel the tears building in my eyes. Fuck me. </p><p>I drag in a shuddered, wet breath, trying to press my face closer to Clay so I don't get caught. It's a futile effort, he's not stupid, he can literally feel me crying on his chest, even without hearing it. </p><p>Clay presses another kiss to my head, but continues to just hum along with the song, not acknowledging the way I'm crumbling into him. For that... I'm thankful. Sometimes... he knows what I need. </p><p>I swallow my tears, steadying myself again, and start to hum back, despite the way my voice threatens to break. </p><p>Like I want you<br/>You</p><p>Clay sings with the second line, whispering the 'you' where his face is still buried in my hair. It's so much, almost too much to handle. </p><p>"You know I'm here for you." Clay mumbles out.</p><p>I whimper, nodding into his chest, pressing as close as I can, allowing myself to get overwhelmed as we continue to sway. </p><p>"I've got you, baby." His voice is soft.</p><p>And for a moment, I know that he does.</p><p>But if you really love me, say it now<br/>Why is it so hard to figure out?</p><p>The song starts to taper off into instrumental, wrapping up. It's almost relieving, but it instills a feeling of fear, dread. I know it could have only been a few minutes we've spent like this, but it's felt like an eternity. </p><p>The song finishes, there's thick silence for only moment, unspoken admittances on the tips of our tongues, before the next song autoplays. </p><p>I-I-I I can make your bed rock</p><p>Clay immediately pulls back, collapsing into a wheezing laugh. </p><p>"WHAT? What is this fucking playlist?" He says around a laugh.</p><p>I find myself laughing as well, sniffling back my tears, lifting a palm to wipe my eyes. </p><p>"It's on shuffle." I say back, voice small, still laughing. </p><p>Clay shakes his head, lifting a hand to cup my face and meet for a chaste kiss. After a second, he shifts, kissing a tear from my cheek. I want to slap him off but can't find the resolve, letting it happen.</p><p>He pulls back, looking relaxed again. "You feel any better after lettin' that out?" He asks, quiet. </p><p>I smile, just barely. I don't feel better, exactly. I feel... hollow, numb, almost. I'm not telling him that.</p><p>"Yeah. Kinda. Sorry I was..." I hesitate, "Pouting." I say. </p><p>"It's okay." Clay says, letting out another small laugh. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?" He asks.</p><p>For a moment, I almost do, but I falter. "Nothing really. Just stressed." I say, then look up at him.</p><p>Clay nods. There's only a moment of hesitation before I see his expression shift back to the severity it had earlier, right after sex. I feel my stomach drop. His mouth opens and closes, like he's choosing his words. </p><p>We hold eye-contact, still completely flush. I can feel my heart in my throat as he looks down at me, searching my face. </p><p>"I—" He starts, and it's all he gets out. There's a knocking at the door that startles both of us out of the moment.</p><p>Clay's face pulls tight, punching his own hand in frustration as he turns to look.</p><p>"Hold that thought." He grumbles, then steps back to answer the door.</p><p>I exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding and fold, flopping back down onto the couch and lifting my knees to my chest, curling up. </p><p>That was a lot to experience. I need to occupy myself.</p><p>I pull my phone out and get on social media, using it as a distraction. Not super successfully. I can hear Clay speaking, though it's muffled from behind the door. Still, I try to focus on his voice, just because I like hearing it. </p><p>I'm an embarrassment to myself. </p><p>There's only another moment before Clay turns in and comes back.</p><p>"Sorry. Neighbor's dog got loose." He says.</p><p>Clay sits next me to me and plants his arm across my lap, holding my far thigh. "Now where was I..." He says, voice going soft.</p><p>I freeze up again, feeling vulnerable. "Something about ordering food?" I say, nervous.</p><p>Clay laughs, looking awkward, cheeks going red. "Oh. Yeah." He laughs again. "Right." </p><p>I fidget for a second. "Pizza sounds good." I say. </p><p>Clay nods, pulling back into his own space and taking his phone out. I readjust, swinging my head into his lap and nuzzling into his stomach, just so I don't have to look at him. </p><p>I can do the closeness. It's easier.</p><p>Clay grunts, lifting a hand to pet my hair, otherwise silent. There's a minute before he drops his phone in front me.</p><p>"That look good?" He asks, showing me the order.</p><p>I nod, without looking. I'm sure it's fine. Clay makes another noise of acknowledgement. </p><p>"Okay I'm ordering." He says, then his hand dips under the collar of the shirt I have on, down my back, just to get some more skin to skin. "Says 40 minutes. What do you wanna do tonight?" He asks, rubbing the base of my neck idly.</p><p>The physical affection makes me shiver, body warming. I'm really so weak for this man, even when I feel like I'm crumbling. </p><p>"U-um..." I start, taking a steadying breath. "Movie maybe?" I ask.</p><p>Clay laughs, squeezing my neck. "I thought you didn't believe in movies." </p><p>I roll my tongue in my mouth, fighting a smile. "That was horny me. She's a different person. We don't talk about her." I say, then lean forward, swiping up the controller and turning the T.V. on.</p><p>I settle on a Studio Ghibli movie, and we settle in, watching it in relative silence. Clay keeps his hands on me the entire time, rubbing with his thumbs, until the pizza arrives in the middle of the movie. </p><p>We split apart after he gets it and throws the box down on his coffee table, eating in silence. I know I'm being weird and quiet, but I'm struggling to keep a level head. I feel awkward once I'm done eating, fidgeting my hands, trying to focus on the movie. </p><p>I see Clay's eyes flick over, searching my face as he continues eating, and it's enough that I need out. I swing to my feet, digging in my bag for my water bottle and heading to the kitchen. </p><p>I'm standing at the sink, filling it, when I hear movement behind me, the only warning I get before Clay presses against my back, landing both hands on my waist. </p><p>My breath hitches, and despite my heart telling me not to, my body reacts, pressing back into his. He makes a pleased noise, and rests his chin on the top of my head. </p><p>"You're quiet tonight." He mumbles.</p><p>I swallow my nerves. "Sorry. I guess I'm just really tired from earlier." I say back, capping my water.</p><p>Clay makes a noise. "Yeah? Me too." </p><p>There's a moment of silence where we just rock against each other, Clay's arms going almost painfully tight around me. I chew my lip, and throw my head into his chest with a thump.</p><p>"Movie's playin' without us." I say, looking for an excuse to get out of the kitchen.</p><p>"I'm busy." He mumbles back, squeezing me even tighter.</p><p>I let out a rough exhale, shivering, letting myself just melt into it. We stay like that for an extended period of time. It keeps feeling like Clay's hyping himself up to say something. </p><p>I'm praying it's what I think, but I'm also afraid it's going to be the opposite of what I want to hear. And I'm not sure how prepared I am to deal with that right now, so I avoid the risk.</p><p>I slap at his arm. </p><p>"Let go. You're crushing me." I say with a pout.</p><p>Clay squeezes one more time, then drops his arms with a huff. I can feel tension in the way he's holding himself, but that's fair. There's tension in the way I'm holding myself.</p><p>I'm thankful when Patches walks in, threading our ankles. A lot of the tension melts, and Clay dips down, scooping her up. </p><p>"You won't complain when I hug you. You like me still." He says to her, then squeezes. </p><p>She chirps at him, but settles into his arms, looking content. I take it as my opportunity to leave, going back to the living room and sitting down. </p><p>Clay quickly follows me out, with Patches, and sits on the opposite end of the couch, occupied with petting her. Godspeed little creature, you've saved my life. </p><p>Eventually, Patches falls asleep and Clay drops a hand to my ankle, just touching to touch. It makes my heart thump. This is actual torture.</p><p>We finish the movie like that, but I'm distracted, conscious of his hand the entire time. As the credits roll Clay looks over at me again, searching my face. I let him this time, barely not sinking into myself. </p><p>"You wanna go upstairs?" He asks. </p><p>I manage to look back at him. "For what?" I ask.</p><p>He cracks into a smile, shaking his head. "Sorry— that did kinda sound like a shitty pick-up line." He rocks to his feet, setting Patches to the floor then stretching. </p><p>"I just don't wanna watch another movie, rather be playing a game together."</p><p>I hesitate, if we play a game together it will be remarkably obvious how quiet and nervous I am.</p><p>"I'm feeling kind of fuzzy from crying... don't think I really wanna play a game right now." It's an excuse, but there's some truth to it. "I could just watch you play something?" I offer.</p><p>"Oh." He says, quiet. "As long as that wouldn't be boring for you or anything, I'd like that."</p><p>I nod, following Clay up, stretching myself. I take the lead, brushing past him to head upstairs wordlessly. He makes a noise, then follows close behind.</p><p>I'm not sure how I'm going to last like this, heart in my throat, words threatening to burst out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. face to face (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The second I'm in Clay's room I slam myself down in his bed, wrapping up. I feel safer under the blankets like this. He laughs the second he sees me, shaking his head and sitting at his desk. </p><p>I zone out, hearing the click of his keyboard, getting back into my head again. Usually I'd watch him play, but everything is making me feel overwhelmed right now. </p><p>"Can you even see it like that?" Clay asks, turning his head to glance at me.</p><p>I nod. "Yeah." </p><p>He lifts his brows, staring me down, then tabs. "What biome was I in?" He asks.</p><p>I bite my lip. Oops. "Um..." I start. I'm just going to have to guess. "Grassland?" I try.</p><p>He tabs back, and it's a jungle. Shit. </p><p>"So I wasn't looking, actually." I admit.</p><p>Clay's lips twitch. "No shit." He shrugs, sitting back in his seat. "I don't want you to be bored... you sure you don't wanna play?" He asks again.</p><p>I shake my head, then hide my face in his pillows. </p><p>Clay sighs, fingers tapping against his desk. I can tell he's starting to catch on that something still isn't quite right, but I don't know if he'll address it. He gives me another searching look that I falter under. After a moment he turns. </p><p>"C'mere." He says, patting his thigh.</p><p>I feel my breath hitch. "Why?" I ask.</p><p>Clay makes a face. "You'll see shit better from my lap. Now c'mere." </p><p>I know I can't say no, despite the mood I'm in, so I swing back to my feet. I walk over, delicately lowering myself in his lap, squirming awkwardly to settle in.</p><p>Clay lets out a pleased noise, and turns back in toward his computer. I sigh, turning with him. I should probably just relax and watch, rather than live inside of my head all day.</p><p>He logs into the SMP, and starts talking the second he spawns. </p><p>"The fuck is going on in your head right now?" He asks, voice tight. </p><p>I look up at his face, seeing it's focused, watching the screen as he runs and jumps, doing not much. I realize it's filler, a distraction so he can ask tough questions. </p><p>I grit my teeth. I just need to do this. </p><p>"Nothing." spills out of my mouth before I can collect myself and actually say what I wanted.</p><p>Clay grunts, immediately missing a jump. "Okay. If that's what you want to say." He says, voice low. "But, I can tell something is up. It would help to know what."</p><p>I bite my lip. I don't even know what I'd say. Date me or I'm about to leave and go home right now? I'm big in love with you? You make my heart beat hard enough to hurt because I'm that invested? </p><p>Before I can say anything else he gets a call from Sapnap. </p><p>"You should answer." I mumble, as Clay declines it.</p><p>He immediately calls again. Clay groans in frustration and answers this time, grabbing his headphones. </p><p>"What? I'm with my girl." He says, sounding irritated. </p><p>It makes my breath hitch to hear him say that again. His girl.</p><p>I hear a muffled voice, before Clay groans again, and pulls his headset off, putting it on me before I can react, then going back to running. I squeak in surprise.</p><p>"Hey." Sap starts, "Did he give me over to you?" </p><p>"Uhh— Yeah. Hey." I say back.</p><p>Sap immediately starts laughing. "What is his dumb ass doing on Minecraft when you're over?" He asks.</p><p>I bite my lip, stifling a laugh of my own. It's a good point, even if it's mostly my fault. "I dunno." I say back. </p><p>"Well I was gonna invite him to play some shit, but I guess if he's so busy. Wink wink." Sap continues.</p><p>I split into a smile. "Yeah? What the fuck you think we're doing while he's on Minecraft?" The teasing is improving my mood considerably. I perk up in Clay's lap.</p><p>"Oh, Claythaniel build that portal faster daddy I'm boutta bust—" I moan out.</p><p>"WHAT?!" Clay immediately shouts as Sapnap huffs a laugh in my ear. </p><p>"Yes daddy Steve, pop off—" I hear Sap moan back before the headphones are snatched back by Clay, and he hangs up the call.</p><p>I keep smiling, turning my face to hide it in Clay's chest. </p><p>"You guys are so stupid..." He mumbles out, shaking his head, but I can see the smile tugging his lips.</p><p>After that it's like the tension has melted. I suppose I have Sap to thank for that, lightening the mood. </p><p>"You were saying somethin' about a nether portal, huh?" Clay asks, and I watch as he sets himself up at a lava pool. </p><p>I bite my lip, stifling a laugh. "Yeah king? You gonna wow me?" </p><p>Clay grins, looking determined. "Time this." He says, then starts. </p><p>I watch, excited. I'm shocked when my breath hitches, watching him build. </p><p>Oh shit. </p><p>Oh fuck. </p><p>This was supposed to be a joke. </p><p>My eyes briefly flick to Clay's face, seeing how determined he looks, before flicking back. I moan, soft and quiet.</p><p>It makes Clay laugh. "Convincing—" He starts, then finishes the portal, still laughing.</p><p>I feel heat on my face, embarrassment crawling my skin. Why am I literally so stupid? </p><p>"It was a joke at first..." I start, then flick my eyes to his face. "But that was kind of hot..." I admit.</p><p>Clay flounders for a moment, staring me down. "You're fucking with me, right?" He asks.</p><p>I bite my lip, shaking my head, expression twisting. "I wish I was." I say back. </p><p>He barks out a loud laugh, folding into his chair, dropping his arms to wrap them around me.</p><p>"WHAT?!" He shouts, then drags in an inhale, staring me down. </p><p>I curl in on myself, only more embarrassed. "I like that you're passionate and talented! Okay! Also it's just cool!" I yelp back as a defense.</p><p>"Yeah?" He asks, coy. "You want me to show you how to do it?" </p><p>I roll my eyes, sitting up in his lap. "Ya gonna get hard during? Me stroking your little ego?" I tease.</p><p>Clay chuckles a low laugh, that I can feel against my back. "You're the one that literally moaned." He says back.</p><p>I pout my lip. He's right on this one. "Yeah, and?" I ask, like that's a quip. </p><p>I lift my hands to the keyboard, batting his hands away. "I'm the captain now." I say, then awkwardly tap his character, almost immediately running directly into lava. </p><p>"Jeeze. Don't kill me." He chastises, a single hand stuffing up my shirt to rest flat on my stomach, rubbing skin to skin. </p><p>It makes... everything go warm, suddenly very aware of my underwear— or lack-there-of. Why am I like this...</p><p>Clay is warm and rumbly, adjusting so he's totally flush to my back with his head hooked over my shoulder. I feel my face warming as I approach the lava pool.</p><p>"Okay. Bucket there— no, to the left, yeah. Good girl." He starts, and I nearly have to close my eyes from the embarrassment, following his instructions. </p><p>"Break that." Clay mumbles, then his hand twitches, teasing the skin of my stomach in a way that makes it clench.</p><p>"Block here, right?" I ask and Clay 'mhms'. I can feel it in his chest. </p><p>I place another block. </p><p>"No." Clay starts immediately. "One higher."</p><p>His hand... dips, fingers teasing my skin slightly lower. My hips rock before I can even think about it. He lets out a pleased noise as he exhales, dragging his fingers along my skin. </p><p>I take a deep breath, and follow his instructions, fixing my mistake. </p><p>"Okay. Bucket again." Clay says, voice quiet, low. </p><p>I listen, shifting nervously as his hand dips even lower, just kneading my flesh, pressing into the skin, low on my abdomen, barely not between my legs. </p><p>"Now you just have to make the shape with lava." He says, then turns his head, pressing a kiss to the base of my neck. </p><p>I immediately moan, something soft and breathy, eyes fluttering shut. Clay notices my reaction, laugh rumbling against my back, diving right back in with his mouth. His hand moves even lower, fingertips dipping down and kneading between my legs with intent.</p><p>I moan again. It feels... fucking amazing.</p><p>There's another surge of emotions.</p><p>But I can't fucking do it.</p><p>"Clay." I warn, around a moan as he starts to move his fingers, attaching his mouth to my neck. He doesn't even hesitate, just hums and dives back in. </p><p>"Clay— I can't—" I whine, struggling to keep my head. </p><p>I feel as he rocks his hips against me, half-hard. I let out a shuddered breath, then finally find my resolve. </p><p>"Stop. Stop." I bite out, and his hands immediately retract. </p><p>"Huh? What's wrong?" He asks, sounding alarmed.</p><p>I lean forward onto his desk, supporting myself on my elbows, trying to create some distance. This is going to hurt. But, I guess it already hurts, ache of rejection deep in my stomach. </p><p>"I can't do this anymore." I mumble out. </p><p>Clay freezes, hands gripping almost painfully tight where they're on me.</p><p>"Do what?" He asks, cautious. </p><p>I dip my head, curling in on myself. "This. This whatever the fuck we're doing— I can't— I—" I take a wet breath, tears threatening me again. </p><p>Clay lets out a wild noise, hands gripping me tight enough that it has to hurt him, as well. </p><p>"Don't say that. Please." He mumbles out, voice high, desperate. </p><p>A shiver builds low in my stomach, threatening to turn into a full body tremble. Suddenly, I'm absurdly thankful I can't see him.</p><p>"I'm not okay with it anymore." I continue, "This— this— weird exclusive friends with benefits or fucking whatever you want to call it—" </p><p>I take a sharp breath, hearing Clay whine behind me. I can feel his hands start to shake where they're planted on me too. It's good to know he's at least similarly vulnerable right now.</p><p>"I want a fucking relationship." I mumble out. "I'm not going to keep doing this without one." </p><p>Clay's hands immediately shift, one arm wrapping around my waist the other around my chest. He tugs me back, hard, despite my fight to stay distant. I make a noise of protest, but it's already too late, he reels me all the way back, flush with him, burying his face in my neck, taking rapid, shaky breaths.</p><p>"I know—" He starts, and I feel my heart sink. I immediately start squirming, trying to get away from him. I can't— I can't handle—</p><p>"Stop." Clay demands, and I do, going limp, tears welling at the corners of my eyes. </p><p>"I know, baby. I know." He continues, voice quiet. "Me too." </p><p>I feel everything in my body go tight, numb.</p><p>"God I can't believe how badly I'm fucking this up I— baby— Shit." Clay starts again, voice tight, measured. He sounds almost... nervous. </p><p>I exhale, trying to relax, but can't even get close.</p><p>"I— I need— I was— I am—" He starts again, stuttering, hands tense.</p><p>I blink back my tears. "Spit it out." </p><p>Clay makes a noise of frustration, burying his face in my neck as deeply as he can. Maybe I'm just imagining things, but his face feels wet too. </p><p>"Why am I so fucking bad at this I—" He starts, whining into my neck.</p><p>There's a moment of silence, where I lift my hand, and curl it on top of his where it's planted on my waist. Maybe I've been selfish. I know this is hard for me, so why wouldn't it be hard for him, too.</p><p>The touch seems to steady Clay somewhat, as he spends time just breathing. </p><p>"I need to confess something." He finally says, voice steadier than it was. </p><p>"I've been— I've been lying to you. I've been into you for as long as you've been into me." He finally admits.</p><p>My jaw clenches, the 'I know, dumbass' threatening to spill out. But, now isn't the time. </p><p>"Yeah?" I say, voice measured with softness. </p><p>"Yeah." He mumbles back. "I just— this is so fucking creepy. I've had this plan since 9th grade—" He sucks in a sharp breath. </p><p>That... actually surprises me. That's even before I was interested in him. </p><p>"I dunno. I-I— I had many plans. But this was the one I was committed to. It's so fucking—" he exhales, "Stupid and selfish, in retrospect." </p><p>I feel myself warming, relaxing, despite the way my body feels like it's numb, floating. We're gonna have this talk, finally. </p><p>"I guess, I just never expected you to show up five months early and crawl into my bed I— I wasn't ready. I didn't think I could have it yet." He says, voice quiet. "No one could have predicted that. This."</p><p>My impromptu trip, he means. Or maybe he means us randomly getting close again because of the pandemic. Or maybe... </p><p>I don't really care right now. </p><p>I start to shift, trying to turn to face him, but his hands tighten, holding me in place. </p><p>"Don't." He says, quiet. "I'm not gonna be able to say shit if I can see your face." He says, like an admission. </p><p>I nod, eyes flicking down to stare at my hand covering his hand planted on my stomach. I lift my other hand to it, trying to make soothing motions with both.</p><p>There's another moment of silence where he collects his words and I fantasize about kissing him dumb.</p><p>"Remember... when... we were fucking kids, and school got delayed because there was like... frost. But it melted right after sunrise anyways? And you cried like a fucking baby because you missed it—" </p><p>I laugh. </p><p>"Yeah. I was throwing the biggest fit—" I mumble, remembering it with him. </p><p>Clay hums, rocking me in his arms. "You said you wanted to see snow, so I hatched a plan. I thought it was totally scandalous." He finally laughs too.</p><p>"I'd take you North, I didn't fucking know where North... and it'd be snowing and I'd kiss you. Can you imagine that? Kissing?" He says, humor in his voice.</p><p>I laugh at him, though I feel my face warming, a small tremble deep in my body. </p><p>"And I know it's stupid, because now you see snow every single year when you visit your grandparents, but I clung to that idea. I guess." He says, then presses his face into my neck, laughing again.</p><p>I pat his hand, leaning into him. "It's not stupid." I say, as steady as I can manage. </p><p>"Nah—" He starts again, "It's super stupid." There's a moment of hesitation as I make a noise of protest. "You wanna know something even more stupid?" He asks.</p><p>I huff. "It's not stupid. But yes." I mumble back. </p><p>Clay squeezes me impossibly tight again, like he's gearing himself up. We sit for just a moment, doing absolutely nothing, before he scoots back, hooking his head over my shoulder again. </p><p>I turn toward him, unable to the refuse the opportunity, and peck his cheek. His face is definitely wet.</p><p>He pulls his desk drawer out, thumbing through it, then catches on something. A piece of paper. He slaps it to my chest, holding it there, waiting for me to take it.</p><p>I do, heart thumping, and pull it back to read. It's proof of purchase for two plane tickets to New York, scheduled on the first day of my winter break. </p><p>I whimper, gripping the paper like it might fly away.</p><p>"I bought them in fucking— in May." He says, laughing again. "I was like— this is the year. I'm gonna admit this shit, maybe get a kiss, maybe get myself smacked. But I needed to say it..." He groans.</p><p>"Now look at us." He says, then pauses for just a second. "I've been pushing you away because I built this thing in my head where like— it wasn't gonna work if I didn't do it like this. And I was ignoring what you wanted and what you were saying and I—" He stops, blowing out a breath, and burying his face back in my neck.</p><p>I have to close my eyes, taking a steadying inhale as I set the paper back down, grin splitting my face. This is... he's... it's...</p><p>It's better than any dream. </p><p>I should be sweet, I should comfort him.</p><p>"You are the dumbest mother fucker on the face of this planet you stupid little bitch boy—" Is what comes out. </p><p>I stop myself with a sharp inhale, followed by a whine and a wet laugh as tears well in my eyes again. </p><p>"But, I think I love you." I say, pouting.</p><p>Clay laughs right back, hiding in my neck. </p><p>"Yeah? I might..." He hesitates for just a second. "I might love you too." He admits. </p><p>We stay still for just a moment, clinging to each other, holding tight like we might float away. I think about his plan. It's sweet, it's... I think I want it.</p><p>I drag in a shuddered inhale, breaking the silence.</p><p>"I'll let you." I say.</p><p>"Hm? Let me what?" He asks, voice quiet, steady again.</p><p>I grin, running my hand up his arm. "Finish your plan. Ask me out in December, I think it's super cute."</p><p>I'd love to date him now but... this confession seems like enough for me. We'll be... essentially dating, anyways. Just a single degree removed, for propriety's sake. </p><p>Clay huffs a laugh, kissing my shoulder. "Yeah? You wanna keep waiting around for me just so I can finish what a 14 year old started?" </p><p>I look at my lap, feeling safe, sated. "Yeah. For you, yeah." I admit.</p><p>He snorts a laugh. "Okay." </p><p>I hum, rocking myself against him, trying to get as close as possible. "This is where you go... oh my God baby... I'm just not ready for a relationship... I need to sort my feelings out... don't leave me you're so thick I promise I'll be better I just can't be in a relationship. Sell it." </p><p>Clay presses another kiss, then fakes a big sigh. "Baby I'm so sorry... I'm just not ready for a relationship right now and I just can't tell you why. I'm not gaslighting you or manipulating you please feel free to give me pussy, though, or I'll get drunk and call you crying saying you broke my heart—" </p><p>We both devolve into laughter, loosening our grip on each other, no longer needing it. We know now. We're both in deep. This is mutual. </p><p>I wriggle, finally turning to face Clay. He smiles as we make eye-contact. I can see his face is red and his eyes are puffy. He was... definitely crying. I melt, leaning in to press kisses to his chin. </p><p>"I've got you." I mumble to him, repeating what he said earlier to me. </p><p>Clay relaxes, and for a second, I think he knows I do.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. one kiss then we fuckin’ (smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this my fave chapter no one say anything mean ill cry</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There's another moment of silence where I just cradle Clay's head as we both come down from the emotional high. I'm honestly... exhausted. Still, I lean back and laugh. </p><p>"That was intense." I say, a smile breaking my expression.</p><p>Clay snorts a laugh in return, snapping his focus back to his PC. "Yeah. But it was needed." He mumbles back. </p><p>I turn in his hold, facing his computer with him, lounging in his lap. I like it a lot more now that it doesn't feel like I'm about to combust or burst into tears. </p><p>"Fuck were we even doing?" He asks, sounding lost.</p><p>I tilt my head back into his chest, looking up at his face. "I was building a portal and you were trying to get knuckle deep." I say, deadpan. </p><p>Clay hums. "Oh. That sounds about right." He says, then chuckles, stuffing his hand back up my shirt.</p><p>I giggle, happily squirming, letting him. His hand pauses on my ribcage, just below my breast, fingertips dragging across my skin teasingly light. </p><p>"Well c'mon. Hold up your end of the deal. Play the game." He says, sounding smug. </p><p>"Clay—" I warn, breath hitching. </p><p>He leans in next to my ear. "I wanna see you do a full portal." He says low, quiet.</p><p>I let out a breathy moan, nodding. "You're so stupid..." I mumble back, but manage to lean forward enough to start playing again. </p><p>The second I start clicking Clay's hand drifts up, fingertips brushing over my nipple to tease it. I didn't expect it to feel different, but somehow, it does. </p><p>Clay's touch feels different, grounding almost. I know he's probably going to fuck my brains out in a few minutes, but it doesn't make me feel embarrassed. It just makes me feel happy, safe, taken care of. </p><p>I rock my hips back into his lap and get the small moan in return that I wanted. His hand immediately gets more aggressive, pinching my nipple, cupping my breast. The game is immediately forgotten, hands moving just to brace myself.</p><p>I can feel Clay's breath as he presses in where the bend of my shoulder meets my neck and scrapes with his teeth. I shiver in his arms, letting out a small moan of my own. </p><p>"The portal, baby." Clay chastises, and I can feel his stupid smile against my skin.</p><p>I blink my eyes hazily, trying to spare some attention to the game for whatever reason Clay is making me. This should've only taken a few seconds, really, but it's difficult to focus. </p><p>I keep grinding my ass in Clay's lap, feeling that he's definitely hard under me. </p><p>"You're seriously trying to fuck me..." I start, pausing to moan and breathe, "Posted up in the— ah—"  Clay pinches my nipple hard enough to hurt, then dips his hand lower, dragging it along the sensitive skin of my stomach.</p><p>My eyes flutter, threatening to close. I find my voice again. </p><p>"Posted up in the gamer chair while you force me to play Minecraft?" I ask aloud, humor of the situation not escaping me.</p><p>"Yeah." Clay mumbles out, pausing only to lick at my skin. "Something wrong with that?" </p><p>My breath hitches, hips rocking back again. "Guess not." I say back.</p><p>"Spread your legs for me, baby." He says, soft, fingers resting incredibly low on my abdomen, just waiting. </p><p>Surprised, I notice I have my legs clenched tight and let them relax. I rock my hips again, everything feeling warm and lax as my thighs part. </p><p>Clay makes a pleased noise, fingers immediately dipping to swipe through my slick, touch light and teasing as he starts to circle my clit.</p><p>"Daddy Dream, chill." I sigh out, trying to tease.</p><p>Clay immediately laughs, hand pausing in it's movement. "Fuck you." He chokes out. "Don't call me that while I'm trying to get inside of you." </p><p>I sigh, parting my legs further, then laugh, small and private. "Why? Something wrong with that?" I ask, teasing him with his own words.</p><p>The game is still open, looming over us, judging us. I hazily blink, leaning forward to sleep the screen, then rock against his hand until it starts to move again.</p><p>Clay just hums instead of answering me, diving back in like he can get every inch of my exposed skin with his mouth. It feels impossibly good, everything warming. </p><p>"Guess not, daddy Dream." I sigh out, answering my question for him.</p><p>Clay lets out another noise, pulling off to speak. "Shut the fuck up. Please." He says, low, then pushes two fingers inside of me like a punishment.</p><p>It makes me shiver as I moan. There's my Clay.</p><p>I briefly think about the fact that the last time we fucked was less than twelve hours ago, and we fucked twice. And he took control both times. A smile splits my face. My turn.</p><p>You know I have to do it to 'em. </p><p>I grab Clay's wrist and force his hand out of me. He grunts, making a noise of protest. The second he's out of me I hop off his lap and stand, shaking my hair out. Without even turning to face him I pull my shirt off over my head.</p><p>Clay lets out a pleased chuckle, grabbing me immediately. I laugh back as he slaps my ass, roughly gropes it, then man-handles me back, forcibly turning me toward him. </p><p>Suddenly his mouth is on my stomach, going up my ribs, on a mission toward my chest. My lips twitch, and I wrap my hands around his head, threading them into his hair, barely not laughing. </p><p>"Fuck." Clay whispers against my skin, lifting to plant his mouth on a nipple and tongue at it. </p><p>I moan for him, letting him have another moment of control just because it feels good, petting his hair. He always looks so... happy when he's got his mouth on me. </p><p>Clay pulls back again, exhaling, staring at the bruise he just sucked on my breast, proud. "When it's you, I make it a single fucking kiss before I want to get my dick wet. Jesus Christ." He sighs out, sounding surprised. </p><p>I laugh for that, hands tensing in his hair to tug and force him to look up at me. "It's okay big man, maybe it'd be easier if it didn't take me less than a kiss to spread my legs for you." I tease, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Synchronicity." </p><p>Clay laughs again, tugging me to lean down until we can meet for a kiss. I keep myself soft, pliant, not exposing my plan to switch it up quite yet. He bites my lip, and I can't help the mewled moan that slips out.</p><p>Clay pulls back looking particularly smug, which is honestly fair, especially after the last noise I made. </p><p>"Am I bending you over my desk? Or are we moving the couple feet over to our bed?" He asks, confident. </p><p>Our?</p><p>I smile, then coo at him. "Aw. That's so sweet. But neither." I say, pulling back, watching his brow knit in confusion. </p><p>"What—" Clay starts, looking lost.</p><p>I pull all the way back, lifting to sit on his desk. He keeps searching my face, until I spread my legs. His eyes dart down, immediately distracted as he scoots himself in, lifting a hand to touch. </p><p>I swat it away. </p><p>"Nope." I say, popping the p.</p><p>Clay looks up with lifted brows, face twisting into surprise. He shakes his head and leans back in his chair, fingers tapping, staring me down. </p><p>"Wanna fill me in on what's going on?" He asks, corner of his lips twitching. </p><p>I smile back, planting both hands behind me and keeping my legs spread, rolling my hips as a show. I'm trying to get Clay to a point where he'll be more... agreeable. It seems to be working, considering the low, constant, pleased noises he's letting out, and the way he cannot pry his eyes off of me. </p><p>He lifts both hands and plants them to my thighs, gripping down, inching higher. </p><p>"I think your turn is overdue." I say, breathy.</p><p>Clay drags in an inhale, mouth parting to speak, but saying nothing, still staring at my body wordlessly. </p><p>I click my tongue, then laugh. "You in there?" I ask, teasing. </p><p>Finally he shakes his head, blinking rapidly, looking up at my face. "T-turn for what?" He asks. </p><p>I bite my lip, feeling giddy. "Can I mount you in this stupid fucking chair and ride you like a mechanical bull?" I ask, then wink.</p><p>Clay starts to laugh, leaning in to get his mouth back on me. I lift a single hand, laughing back, petting the back of his head as he nips and sucks at my skin. </p><p>"Go ahead." He mumbles into my chest, then bites again. "—love to watch you bounce on my cock, pretty little fucking face just—" he cuts himself off, humming, soothing his multitude of claims with his mouth.</p><p>My breath hitches at his words as I watch him work his mouth, briefly wondering if I look like I've been mauled. Knowing, that I definitely look like I've been mauled. </p><p>I plant a hand on Clay's shoulder, guiding him back into his seat. He goes willingly, leaning back, adjusting his hips, rolling them. </p><p>Do I stare at his dick? Yes.</p><p>I bite my lip, leaning in over him, keeping one hand on his shoulder as I reach down to palm his tented boxers. </p><p>Clay's eyes flutter, a soft moan of relief passing his lips. I keep my eyes turned down, watching his stomach tense as he lifts to press into my hand. His moans are small, quiet, breathy, as I wrap my hand around his dick over the cloth, just groping to grope. </p><p>"Hard already..." I mumble out, appreciatively. </p><p>Clay grunts, then there's suddenly a hand pressing between my legs, fingers forcing their way into everything sensitive, toying with me. </p><p>"You're wet, too." He says, sounding pleased, then exhales. "Always so fuckin' wet for me."</p><p>I tick my jaw, even as I smile. "Just for that..." I say, then retract my hand and step back, turning toward where my box of— equipment— sits on the desk.</p><p>Clay perks up in interest as I flip it open, looking for a few specific things. </p><p>One... rope. </p><p>Hm. Maybe it's just that. </p><p>He lifts his brows, eyes flicking between my face and hands.</p><p>"For me?" He asks.</p><p>I nod. "Can I?"</p><p>Clay looks hesitant, so I walk up, dropping into his lap, grinding against him, pressing my bare chest to his. </p><p>"Please?" I ask with a pout. </p><p>Clay moans, rolling his hips to meet my movement.  "You— fuck you make a convincing argument..." he sighs out, lifting a hand to the small of my back.</p><p>I lean in, planting my lips to his neck and kissing, teasing with my tongue. "Say yes." I breathe out. </p><p>His head tilts back, giving me more neck to play with. "Yes." He says. </p><p>I split into a grin, keeping my mouth pressed to his skin. I've got him right where I want him. I spend a little more time working his neck, teasing the sensitive skin there before I pull back, lifting up onto my knees so I have room.</p><p>I consider my options, then look up at him. "Gotta knife?" I ask.</p><p>Clay looks distracted, staring at me again, but nods, hand shooting forward to fumble at his desk. He opens a drawer, holding me steady with an arm looped around my waist as he leans in and digs. He pops back up, producing a pocket knife.</p><p>I take the rope, fold it to split it in the approximate middle, then hold it taut. </p><p>"Cut it for me." I say.</p><p>"Yes ma'am." Clay says back, lips curling into a smile as he flips the blade out and gets to sawing, slowly cutting through it. </p><p>Watching him focus, carefully handling the knife, my heart thumps. That's kinda hot... I should tell him.</p><p>"Hot." I say, a very refined, thought out statement.</p><p>Clay's brow furrows, eyes briefly flicking up to my face. "What? You want me to stab you or something?" He says, teasing.</p><p>"No." I say, breathy, feeling my face warm. "It's the dynamic of having a big man under me, with a knife, and knowing I'm about to tie him to a chair." </p><p>Clay barks out a laugh, slicing through the last strand, then flips the knife closed, tossing it on his desk. I feel like an idiot, but get excited, shaking my ass, happily wiggling on top of him.</p><p>He lifts both hands to my hips, mouth twitching into a smile, watching me act like a fool. </p><p>"Hands on the armrests, daddy Dream." I... request. </p><p>Clay rolls his eyes back into his head, even as his smile splits wider. He lifts his hands off of me, briefly raising them in surrender, then plants them to the armrests of his chair. </p><p>I hold one half of the rope in my mouth, threading the other through my fingers as I wrap it around his wrist. I do one first, then look up at him, pulling the rope from my mouth. </p><p>"That okay?" I ask.</p><p>Clay grunts, testing it. It seems to hold. His jaw ticks, face going red. "Yeah. It's sturdy." He says.</p><p>I hide a smile, considering his face and the eye-contact he's having trouble making. I think he likes it more than he thought he would. </p><p>I'm tempted to grind into Clay's lap to tease, but think better of it, switching sides, tying down his other arm. </p><p>The second I have both arms tied I sit down on his thigh, pushing my hand forward to tease along his waistband, delicately dragging my nails along his skin. </p><p>Clay's hips shift, briefly lifting us. It's enough pressure between my legs that I moan. He looks smug, and starts bouncing his leg rapidly. I have to fully sit up on my knees to get away from it, glaring at him.</p><p>"I'm fuckin' the clitoris—" He sings, grinning like an idiot. </p><p>I sigh. "Every second with you is hell—" I start, and he makes a noise of protest. </p><p>Still, I break into a smile and lean in, pressing our bodies flush to catch his mouth with mine. The humor that was coloring the situation starts to fade, fast, as we moan into eachother's mouths, both trying to claim space with our tongues.  </p><p>I let Clay win, making room for him to fuck his tongue into my mouth. I'll let him have whatever control he wants to claim now, because I'm about to act up. I curl both hands around his shoulders, holding tight. I hesitate for only a second, then dig my nails in. </p><p>Clay lets out a stuttered moan into my mouth, muscles of his back going tense under my hands. I grab harder. </p><p>He break the kiss, pulling back to take in a sharp inhale. "Fuck baby, what are you doing?" </p><p>I smile, letting my hands relax, dragging them over his shoulders, to his chest, lifting myself back onto my knees again. </p><p>"Using my nails. Gotta get your money's worth." I say, smug.</p><p>Clay blows a steadying breath, rolling his shoulders, I'm sure trying to soothe the sting. I give him no time to collect himself, dragging my nails down his chest, down his stomach, watching his body twitch and react along the way. </p><p>I reach his waistband and dip my hand in, no hesitation, pulling his cock out. His hips lift with the stimulation, trying to get some friction. I keep my touch feather-light, teasing, slowly dragging a single finger along the length of his cock.</p><p>Clay shivers, cock jerking in my hand. I follow a vein with the pad of my finger and he moans. I look at his face, smiling, seeing he's blushing, half-lidded eyes lowered to watch. </p><p>"Do you think you picked the right color?" I ask, wrapping my hand around his cock and squeezing, dragging my hand up it, nails on display.</p><p>Clay moans first, then speaks. "Yeah." He breathes out.</p><p>I have to stifle a laugh. He's... gone. </p><p>"Yeah?" I ask back, teasing.</p><p>Clay's eyes flick up to meet mine for that. His head rolls back on his shoulders as he swallows.</p><p>"Thought you were gonna ride me?" He asks, voice vulnerable.</p><p>I have to bite my lip. "I will..." I start, then press my thumb to the tip of his cock, moving in small strokes. "After I pay you back for this morning." I say.</p><p>I see the realization dawn on his face, a low laugh escaping him. "It's only fair if you do it with your mouth." He says, breathy.</p><p>I blink down at him for that. I was planning on that, but now I want him to wait. </p><p>"I'll do whatever I want." I say.</p><p>I lean in, attaching my mouth to Clay's neck, jerking his cock torturously slow. I feel the tendons of his neck tense with restraint and frustration. </p><p>"Because you're tied to your fucking chair." I whisper out, then pull back to laugh at him. </p><p>Searching Clay's face this time... he looks... strained, glaring at me, despite the way his face is still flush. I crack into a wild grin, extremely pleased with myself. </p><p>I keep moving my hand on his cock, still just teasing. It must feel good enough, though, because he keeps making small noises, rocking into the touch like he can't get enough.</p><p>"You like it that much?" I ask, dipping my hand to rest at the base of his cock, knowing it's less sensitive there.</p><p>Clay lets out a soft moan, followed by a 'mhm'. The tension has eased from his face. Now, it's all relaxed want and heat. It makes me happy to see him surrender to me like this, the trust of it touching.</p><p>I lean in one more time to catch his lips for an affection filled kiss, trying to communicate how happy the moment is making me, before I switch to something heavier. I pull back, and we share breath, maintaining eye contact for a split second, before I dive back in, slotting our mouths together.</p><p>Everything about the kiss is melting for me. I assume it's similar for him. I push my tongue into his mouth for a brief moment, pulling back to nip his lip then dive back in, moving my hand on his cock again.</p><p>I decide my point has been made by now.</p><p>I break the kiss, swiping my tongue across Clay's lip to clean it, then pull all the way back and stand off his lap. </p><p>Clay's face shifts into a predatory smile, pleased, hips briefly lifting like he knows what he's about to get from me. </p><p>"Yeah?" I mumble out, dropping to my knees. "That happy to get your dick sucked?" </p><p>Clay's legs part to make room for me as I lift, leaning my head into his lap. I hold the base of his dick, then just barely tongue the side, looking up at him</p><p>I watch his eyes flutter, arms tensing where they're tied. He probably wants to grab, guide me in. So I pull back, keeping my lips parted, staring up at him, just barely moving my hand on his cock.</p><p>"Say please." I demand, curling into a smile.</p><p>Clay's jaw ticks, staring down at me, hips lifting. There's tense silence where I just move my hand on his cock, close enough that he can feel my breath, but giving him nothing else.</p><p>"Please." He finally bites out.</p><p>I finally lean back in, swiping my tongue along the head of his cock, then keep it pressed, pulsing it. He moans for that, and I can feel his cock flex in my hand.</p><p>This is fun. </p><p>I drag my lips along the length of his cock, from the base to the tip, then finally part my lips, taking him into my mouth, teasingly shallow.</p><p>Clay lifts his hips, trying to push himself deeper as I wrap my lips around him, tightening down. I wrap one hand around the base of his dick, squeezing, then use the other to steady myself on his thigh. </p><p>I hum around his dick, blissed out, watching and listening to how reactive he is with the minimal stimulation, essentially just keeping his cock warm with my mouth.</p><p>I decide to get comfortable, tilting my head to lay it on his thigh, relaxing, and stare at his face, slowly curling my tongue around everything it can reach and not much else.</p><p>"Fucking... move." Clay grits out, face pulled tight.</p><p>I'll oblige that. </p><p>I move by pulling all the way off his cock until I'm resting with the tip pressed to my lips. I kiss it once, smiling up at him.</p><p>He lets out a tense breath, head rolling back on his shoulders, stomach taut with restraint. </p><p>"How's this, daddy?" I mumble to him, swiping my tongue out once. </p><p>Clay moans, rocking his hips into the barely there stimulation. </p><p>"Please, baby. Please—" He moans out, sounding desperate. Which, he probably is.</p><p>I decide to indulge him, give him some good head, even though I don't want to give him too much. Like I said, payback.</p><p>I open my mouth again, taking the full length, briefly sucking him off like it's a mission, hollowing my cheeks and lathing my tongue. </p><p>Clay's incredibly reactive, moaning and breathing, rocking against my mouth with every movement. I can feel his thigh tense under my hand and grip down on it, digging in with my nails. </p><p>"It's so fucking good baby, you're such a good girl—" He sighs out.</p><p>I feel my stomach flutter. I make an impulse decision to completely mirror his earlier behavior. I use my hand to wet the entirety of his dick with spit, sucking him off and jerking his cock with absolute purpose. </p><p>There's sloppy noises coming from my mouth as I moan and move, keeping suction as tight as I can, trying to dribble split down his dick because I know it feels good and makes my hand movements easier. </p><p>Clay's entire body is tight, mouth parted as he stares down at me, eyes flicking between my eyes and where I have my mouth wrapped around his dick. </p><p>I suck particularly hard, and watch his eyes flutter for a second, breath hitching.</p><p>"So fucking good baby..." He mumbles out, completely gone.</p><p>I feel his cock tense further, the taste of precum on my tongue. I hear him let out a soft moan, then I pop off, stopping all stimulation.</p><p>Clay whines, bucking his hips to make contact with air. </p><p>"Baby, c'mon— I—" He starts, sounding desperate.</p><p>I watch his cock instead of him, eyes following the tiniest bead of precum as it drools out. I lift to catch it with my tongue. It interrupts whatever Clay was saying, as he pauses to let out a wild moan. </p><p>I finally look up at Clay's face, seeing it's bright red, him taking panted breaths, body pulled tight.</p><p>"Beg to cum." I say, simply, leaning into clean another bead of precum from his cock. </p><p>Clay lets out a guttural moan, entire body rocking with the force. It makes my pussy clench on nothing, suddenly remembering that it exists and can take his cock. </p><p>I have to bite my lip to stifle a moan, distracted thinking about how good Clay would feel fucking in and out of me, moaning under me, as I bounce in his lap. </p><p>"Please baby. Please don't stop, please— I—" Clay starts, moaning again as I reattach my mouth and swallow his cock again. </p><p>It's saltier this time, the taste of precum persistent in the back of my throat as I swallow around his cock, keeping him locked inside. </p><p>Clay lets out an exhale of relief, sensitive to my every move. Poor guy. I pop right back off. </p><p>He groans, shifting in his seat.</p><p>We make tense eye contact, and I see the heat, danger there. I drag my tongue along my lower lip and his eyes drop to track the movement. </p><p>"I still want to ride you. So don't cum." I say, voice light, teasing. </p><p>I smile, mischievous, as I lean back in and tongue along the length of his cock, following a vein. The noise he lets out surprises me, breathy, desperate. </p><p>"Please— baby I'm begging you." He whispers out.</p><p>I have to pause, flutters filling my stomach. </p><p>"Fuck me." I start, surprised how gone he is. "When you ask like that..." I say, feeling my face warm.</p><p>Clay's eyes are barely open, half-lidded as he pulls in deep, measured breaths, trying to control himself. </p><p>I've decided I want his dick inside me, that doesn't mean I'm going to be nice, now, though. </p><p>I plant both hands to Clay's thighs and lift. Once standing, I press both hands to his shoulders, steadying myself as I crawl into his lap, straddling him. </p><p>The bliss on his face is immediately apparent. </p><p>"Please baby, please, please—" He mumbles out, eyes flicking up and down my body. "Please don't be fucking with me right now—" He says, letting out a breathy sigh.</p><p>Oops. </p><p>I bite my lip, lowering a hand between us, wrapping it around the base of Clay's dick to help me line up. I press the tip against my entrance, thighs briefly tensing, then start to sink down on his cock. </p><p>The stretch is unmatched. </p><p>I love watching as Clay immediately melts in my hands, moaning with my movement, hips barely rocking against me.</p><p>"Oh my God, oh my God baby, you feel so— oh my God—" He whimpers, head rolling back on his shoulders. </p><p>"Don't cry over some pussy." I mumble, teasing him, finishing getting the entire length inside.</p><p>I rock into his lap, not quite moving, just enjoying being connected. Besides, I'm not done proving my point. </p><p>I let myself completely relax in Clay's lap, pressing our bodies flush, resting my head on his shoulder. I lift a single hand to his mouth, dragging my fingertips across his lip. </p><p>"Spit for me." I say, splitting into a smile. </p><p>Clay listens immediately, pushing his tongue out to wet my fingers. I drop the hand between us, twisting my body just right, and press between my legs, jerking off on his cock. </p><p>I mewl a soft moan, clenching and fluttering as I circle my clit. Clay moans in response, obviously feeling me pulsing on his cock. </p><p>"Please." He whines again, soft, quiet, broken. </p><p>"What do you want?" I ask, absolutely floating, followed by a moan. My hips twitch instinctively, giving Clay the barest amount of movement, and he instantly moans, rocking into it like I'm riding with purpose. </p><p>"Please— please— please I just—" Clay moans as I clench down again, shuddering a moan of my own. </p><p>I'm getting close from my own fingers and the stretch of his cock, plus the high of the power I have over him. </p><p>"Please make me cum." He finally manages to ask. </p><p>My face splits into a wild grin, extremely pleased. I guess it's time to just give us what we both want. </p><p>I plant my hand to Clay's chest and push off. He whimpers, following me with his head like I'm about to leave. I lean back until I can look at him, then lift, bouncing on his cock once.</p><p>He exhales as though punched, entire body rocking into the sensation. I have to bite my lip again, face flushing. I'm proud of this. He's fucking... gone. </p><p>"Make me— make me cum— make me— baby—" Clay mumbles out, repeated phrases only cut with moans. </p><p>I'm feeling merciful.</p><p>I lift my hand to his wrist, delicately working the knot, letting the rope drop. The second it's off Clay's hand is on me, gripping my ass hard enough to bruise, man-handling me, forcing me to move on his cock.</p><p>We both let out pleased moans, colliding together with jerky, desperate, thrusts. </p><p>I tap his chest. "W-wait a sec— Clay— Wait. Let—" I start, trying, ending up moaning. </p><p>I decide to just let him keep doing what he's doing, steadying myself as well as I can to untie his other wrist.  </p><p>A mistake.</p><p>The second it's off his other hand is up, shoving his keyboard out of the way, then we're up. </p><p>Clay stands, still inside of me, making desperate noises, dumping me onto his desk on my back. It's incredibly awkward, me floundering my hands, trying to steady myself as he starts to snap his hips.</p><p>So much for riding him. I'll have to do it some other time.</p><p>I mewl, craning my neck, trying to stop banging my head and hands into everything in my scramble. I eventually find the presence of mind to lift both hand to Clay's shoulders and dig in with my nails, holding on like that as he snaps his hips in ragged, rough, motions. </p><p>I don't try too hard to get comfortable, feeling the looming orgasm build in my stomach, knowing we likely won't be here long.</p><p>The desk creaks in protest, obviously not made for this. </p><p>Clay moans, desperate, pushing his entire face flush against the skin of my neck. His breath is hot, heavy, his lips mouthing at my skin every time he remembers he can. </p><p>"I'm gonna— I'm not— I can't last—" Clay moans out, stilling for just a moment to rock against me, before starting again. </p><p>I moan, nodding, like I can give permission. </p><p>"Me neither." I breathe out, thighs immediately tensing and shivering, one good stroke away from my climax.</p><p>Clay lets out another guttural moan, snapping his hips hard before setting back into his desperate rhythm, and it's all it takes for me. </p><p>I arch, pressing our bodies flush, digging my nails in hard enough into his back to draw blood. It's honestly... embarrassing that I came first.</p><p>I mewl out a moan, shivering, throbbing, a complete mess. </p><p>Clay starts swearing, then bites down on my shoulder to quiet himself, hips snapping rough once, twice, then rocking into me. He buries himself as deep as he can, cumming too, before I've even finished fluttering in oversensitivity. </p><p>There's only a second where we stay melting against Clay's desk before his arms tighten around me and he lifts me, flopping back into his chair with me in his lap. </p><p>We're both still moaning, touching eachother with care, hands and mouths soothing in their movement on eachother's skin, until Clay finally exits my neck, surfacing for air.</p><p>I take the opportunity to kiss him, humming against his mouth, eyes completely shut, body buzzing with warmth and affection. </p><p>Eventually the movement dies down, until I'm melted against Clay, head on his shoulder, one of his hands rubbing circles in the small of my back.</p><p>"That was..." Clay starts, breathy, and I immediately laugh. </p><p>"Intense. Yeah." I say, and he laughs back, tightening his arms around me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. busted (fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stay melted into Clay's chest until I can't anymore, shifting restlessly, the feeling of everything still being inside of me decisively... not it. I lift up onto my knees, looking down to watch the cum drip out of me, as is the normal, lately. Clay makes a pleased noise, watching too, and I laugh. </p><p>I arch my back, tensing all of my muscles, lifting my arms to stretch out from being thrown around.</p><p>Clay hums, looking me up and down. "Nice." He mumbles out, then lifts both of his hands to my waist. </p><p>I nearly fold, exhaling a sharp laugh. "Yeah? Is it the cum? Or the bruises?" I pause, grinning, cupping my own breast. "It's the bruises for me." </p><p>Clay grunts, still staring, now at my chest, mouth parted. I'm surprised how... immediately handsy he is, pulling me close to him and planting his mouth right back on my chest.</p><p>I squirm, lifting a hand to thread into his hair and try to tug him off. </p><p>"What're you doing?" I ask, and Clay bites my breast. "Stop it—" I continue, smacking the bag of his head, even as I giggle.</p><p>He pulls back, loopy, trouble-making smile curling his face. I tense, knowing something stupid is coming.</p><p>"Goo goo, ga ga—" Clay starts, grinning, and my eyes briefly close, jaw clenching. "I want milk." He says.</p><p>Suddenly his mouth is back on my breast, sucking my nipple. I let out a breathy noise, holding back my moan because I feel like I'm descending into madness, still processing the dumb shit he just said.</p><p>"What the fuck, Clay?" I finally manage to bite out, pulling his hair as hard as I can to pop him off my breast.</p><p>He smiles up at me, looking incredibly pleased with himself, even at I glare back. "I—" I start, blinking at him in disbelief. </p><p>Clay opens his mouth, tugging himself back toward my chest. I have to lift my second hand, using both to keep him back, and start to laugh at the hilarity of the situation.</p><p>"Are— are you fucking good?" I ask. </p><p>Clay hums, looking up at me with the dumbest smile I've ever seen. "Please." Is all he says, before I decide I need out. </p><p>Shaking my head, I rock to my feet, away from him, even as he follows me with his hands, groping every part of my body within reach, melting into his chair.</p><p>"Just because we're pre-dating, doesn't mean you can get this comfortable—" I say, teasing, barely fighting off my laugh.</p><p>What he said is finally registering to me as funny, now that I'm over the initial shock. </p><p>Still, I take a step back, stumbling as my legs threaten to give out. I dart out a single hand, slapping it to his desk to steady myself. I blink, slowly, hearing Clay laughing to himself before I turn to look.</p><p>He's still sitting, face split into an incredibly smug grin. "What's wrong?" He asks, and I roll my eyes.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. Live it up milk boy." I bite back with an exasperated sigh. "I'm gonna leave you and go shower." I say.</p><p>Clay perks up for that, no longer slouching in his chair, shooting up to his feet and crowding against me, corralling me toward the bathroom.</p><p>"I'm not missing that." He says, quiet, sounding a bit less zooted. </p><p>I brace myself, smile curling my face. "Yes. Yes you are." I say back, then dash, not well, legs still in bambi-mode. </p><p>Clay furrows his brow, and barely jogs, easily catching me at the door, right as I try to slam it in his face. There's suddenly two arms around my waist, lifting me, even as I yelp, kicking and thrashing, laugh bubbling in my throat. </p><p>He laughs back, planting his mouth on my shoulder to drag his lips against my skin. </p><p>"Free me, you bastard—" I protest, unable to fight my laugh. </p><p>Clay only puts me down once we're standing in the shower, then blocks me off with his body as he turns the water on, taking the initial wave of cold. </p><p>I giggle, watching him shiver as it hits his back, then lift both hands, slapping against his chest. </p><p>It's his turn to stare at me like I'm insane. "We playin' Donkey Konga?" He asks, looking proud of himself. </p><p>I immediately grimace, dropping my hands. As stupid as we're acting... there's consistent warmth blooming in my chest. We've finally talked. The emotions are out there, spoken into being. </p><p>I see the smile curling Clay's face, the way he blinks water from his eyes, every movement, every gesture, they all mean one thing, 'I love y—</p><p>"Today, we coded it, so that instead of pissing the bed next to my girlfriend, I piss on her in the shower." Clay says. </p><p>Never-mind. </p><p>I take it all back. </p><p>I realize I'm just staring at his face, making noises, torn between reacting to the 'girlfriend' or the 'piss'. </p><p>"If you do that I will grab your dick and snap it in half." I warn. </p><p>He starts to giggle, backing me up against the wall of the shower I yell at him. "NO. DO NOT." </p><p>Another step closer. </p><p>"PISS SLINGER. NO." I shout.</p><p>Another step forward, within grapple distance, a small giggle escaping him. "Try to run and hide. You are a target." He says.</p><p>I yell, slapping out at him, but I get grabbed, and reeled into his chest with a wet slap.</p><p>"You are absolutely wretched. You are the worst man alive." I choke out, starting to laugh as I writhe in his arms. </p><p>Clay finally laughs back, leaning in to press his face into my neck and, to my surprise, kiss me. It makes me shiver, the tickle of his lips startling on my skin. </p><p>Still I melt into it, a blissed out smile on my face, small laughs still occasionally bubbling out of me as I think about how stupid he's been acting. </p><p>"You're braindead, I think." I say aloud, turning to press my cheek to his head.</p><p>Clay just hums, not giving up with his mouth, pressing it everywhere he can as he drags it up my throat. He briefly pulls back to look at my face, breaking into a genuine smile, then leans in, slotting our mouths together. </p><p>The moment feels soft, in a weird way. </p><p>I lift one of my hands to hold the back of Clay's head as he breaks the kiss, and buries himself back into my neck, mouthing at my skin. I feel my eyes flutter, a moan threatening to come out.</p><p>God, I need to find some resolve. Why am I letting myself get melted by the pee pee man.</p><p>Finally, Clay pulls back, grabbing the body wash. I extend a loofah as well, asking for some. We both start washing ourselves separately, but I can see him constantly peaking over at me. </p><p>I have only a second of peace before Clay's right in front of me, wringing the suds from his loofah out on my tits, and getting handsy again. </p><p>I have to stifle a laugh, looking at his happy expression as he spreads the soap, touching both breasts with a single massive hand.</p><p>"You having fun, big man?" I ask after a moment, looking up, seeing him still singularly focused. He grunts.</p><p>"I promise you they're clean by now." I say with a small laugh as he grabs more soap.</p><p>Clay's eyes never flick up once. I roll my eyes, letting him do whatever, affection for him only growing stronger. It takes us an absurdly long time to finish showering, possibly because of my quintuple-washed tits. </p><p>Once out, I towel off quick, and head straight for Clay's closet, not even pretending to look for clothes of my own. I snag the first hoodie I see, light grey, and shrug it on. </p><p>I realize I have to go put on my own underwear and groan, trudging downstairs to do it. I pass Patches on the way back, and scoop her up. She yawns in my face, drowsy, likely because it's midnight, but otherwise rag dolls.</p><p>I walk back up into Clay's room, kissing Patches' head idly, seeing he's already seated back at his desk, in sweats, leaning on his knees, scrolling his phone. </p><p>"Not gonna lie I kinda—" He starts, stuttering to a stop as he looks up and sees us.</p><p>I can hear him exhale, mouth left ajar, eyes locked.</p><p>"What?" I ask, spreading into a small smile even as I fluster in on myself. "You got a staring problem?" </p><p>Clay doesn't react other than biting his lip, eyes dragging up and down me. </p><p>"My girls—" He finally coos out, shooting up to his feet to approach. </p><p>I startle as Clay circles me from behind, both arms wrapping around my waist, hooking his head over my shoulder. Patches makes a noise in my arms, lifting to sniff his nose. </p><p>I melt back into Clay's body, absolutely blissed out as he holds me. I feel like something precious, being rocked in his arms, flush to his chest. </p><p>Clay starts to make small, goofy, contented noises, burying his face as far into my neck as he can get it.</p><p>"What?" I try again, a light laugh sneaking its way out.</p><p>"Nothin'..." He starts, mumbling, taking a deep inhale. "I'm just happy." </p><p>Jesus Christ. </p><p>I feel my entire body go warm, gushy, liquifying in Clay's hold, letting him hold me for as long as he likes. Eventually Patches protests, and we break apart so I can set her down. </p><p>Clay finally steps away from me, and sits back down in his chair. I follow, plopping down right in his lap. </p><p>He makes a pleased noise, rolling us up to his desk and fixing the disarray we've created there. </p><p>"I was thinkin'..." Clay starts, unplugging his headset, switching to his speakers, "Maybe I could coach you through a speedrun?" He suggests.</p><p>I hum, considering it. It sounds... fun.</p><p>"It was nice to show you the portal— even though you didn't finish it." He barrels on before I can reply. </p><p>I let out a small laugh. "Whose fault is that? Horny ass." I reply.</p><p>He laughs back, lifting one hand to slap my stomach. "C'mon. How am I meant to control myself with a pretty girl Minecrafting in my lap—" he says, wheezing as he finishes the sentence. </p><p>I roll my eyes, and my hips, cutting his laugh short. That's right. Don't forget, I'm in charge. </p><p>Clay refocuses on fixing his desk. </p><p>Once he's got everything back in place he turns his screen back on. We both startle as we see we left him logged into the server, just standing next to my mostly built portal. </p><p>Except, he's encased in glass, surrounded by signs. </p><p>"What?" Clay says, chuckling. "We never logged off this?" </p><p>I squint, trying to read the signs as he breaks out, moving past them.</p><p>"Wait— lemme read the signs." I chastise. </p><p>Clay grunts, backing up so I can read. The first one just says "dream in sexile", next "horny cage". Then there's the sign that makes me freeze. </p><p>"Don't enter VC one?" I read aloud, a feeling of dread settling in. </p><p>I turn to look at Clay's face, watching as his brow knits tight, fingers quickly tabbing to discord. I stare right along with him, seeing it at the same time, his little icon, pleasantly sat in his DreamTeam Discord, connected to voice channel one.</p><p>"Shit." Clay says.</p><p>I swallow, turning to his face, seeing him flush red. I lift my hands, putting up the hood of the hoodie, pulling the strings tight to hide my face, as embarrassed as a person can fathomably get. </p><p>Clay's suddenly dead silent, hands paused on his keyboard. He types a simple 'im sorry' and sends it. There's immediate activity. </p><p>George<br/>'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH' 12:31 am</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA'<br/>'IS IT SAFE?' 12:31 am</p><p>Clay huffs a big sigh, looking distraught. </p><p>"Shit—" He says again, groaning it out. </p><p>I watch his fingers twitch where they rest on the keyboard, then lean in, taking over, typing myself.</p><p>'idk what u think u heard but no u didnt &lt;3' 12:32 am</p><p>There's immediately two Discord dings, notifying us that others have joined the call. I have to close my eyes, bracing for the immediate eruption of volume. </p><p>"I'm not gonna last—" George moans out, familiar sounding words. </p><p>"Imagine you see your best friend playing on the game you guys play together but he's like just standing there, and you're like huh weird, he must've gone to go get some food or something but he keeps not moving and you go to message him on Discord and see he's connected to a voice channel and you connect in and hear nothing for a second then—" Sapnap pauses, taking a massive inhale. </p><p>"—THEN ALL YOU HEAR IS HIM CLAPPING CHEEKS WHILE HIS GIRL SHOUTS DADDY HARDER." He yells out. "BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE TO FUCKING IMAGINE." </p><p>I lift my hands, pulling the hoodie drawstring tighter, enough to hide my entire face. Still, I start laughing. </p><p>Clay groans, obviously caught between a rock and a hard place. </p><p>I decide to lean in, no filter, hoping for the best. "I didn't say daddy harder this time." I start, a smirk curling my lips. "I said beg me to cum and I'm not gonna la—" </p><p>Suddenly, Clay's hand claps over my mouth, silencing me. I lick out at his palm, mischievously. </p><p>"YOOOOOOOOOO—" George shouts. </p><p>Sapnap reacts like a baby that's heard a new word. "Beg me to cum." He says, then repeats it, and continues repeating it, getting louder each time until he's screeching it. </p><p>I roll my eyes, tugging Clay's hand off my face and lean in again. "Pwease let me make cummies daddy." I say, baby voiced. They both yell.</p><p>It gets a snort out of Clay, as he leans forward and mutes. He just barely relaxes under me, so I decide it's worth it. </p><p>"How did I even—" he starts, huffing a sigh, burying his face in my neck again, "God, how did I even do that? Damn." </p><p>I laugh back, feeling how warm his face is. "Must've been when you were forcing me to do shit on the game while fingering me. I was distracted so I coulda tapped it on accident." I say.</p><p> Clay hums, considering that. </p><p>"Or maybe it was when you threw me on your desk and let me slap around while you pounded me." </p><p>He laughs this time, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Blame it all on me." He grumbles out.</p><p>Suddenly there's clarity from the voice chat, the boys no longer going completely feral. </p><p>"Unmute Dream! Face your shame!" Demands Sapnap. </p><p>"Only if you aren't fucking again." George tags on.</p><p>Clay groans, burying his face like he can permanently hide in my neck. I lean forward, and unmute, heading back for the main area with his character.</p><p>I meet George along the way, and he immediately starts swinging on me. I yelp, trying to avoid it, running away. </p><p>George lets out an evil cackle, following me. "Don't try to run—" he starts. "Accept your punishment."</p><p>I feel Clay's arms tense around me as I get to half health. I'm not doing great. I feel his preparedness, and decide to use it.</p><p>"Call an ambulance— call an ambulance—" I start in a breathy voice. I turn to George. "But not for me." I say, then retract from the keyboard.</p><p>Clay's hands fly up like it's instinct, taking control. He immediately starts annihilating George as he squawks into his mic. </p><p>"DREAM!" George shouts, and suddenly he's the one running away.</p><p>Clay drops George, losing only another heart more, then stands in his loot eating. I turn to look at his face, seeing he looks incredibly pleased with himself, and feel a lot better. He's probably going to be made fun of for... some time for our mistake, at least he can take it in stride.</p><p>Naked George returns, crouching in submission. "Pwease may I have my loot back." He mumbles, giggling to himself.</p><p>"I'm coming too. He can't take us both, George." Sapnap says, fake whispering. Which... is blatantly untrue. He definitely can. He definitely has. </p><p>I feel Clay's lips twitch, as he pops open his inventory, mercifully, and starts throwing George's shit on top of him. </p><p>I see him hover over a particular item and I freeze. He pauses as well.</p><p>"What the fuck is this?" Clay asks aloud, popping the book I wrote with the boys into his hotbar. </p><p>"What's what?" George asks. </p><p>"Stolen Minecraft GF?" Clay questions, exiting his inventory and opening it. </p><p>There's immediate mischievous laughter from George and Sap, and I watch George turn to run. God I wish that was me. </p><p>I lift my hands to my face, and start planning my funeral. Hearing, "WHAT? When did— this—" Come from behind me as he reads it. </p><p>Clay lifts a hand to my jaw, squeezing my face, letting out a steadying exhale.</p><p>"Plead your case." He says, though I can hear the humor in his voice.</p><p>I flounder for a moment, fish mouthing. </p><p>"They made me!" I yelp.</p><p>Clay immediately hums, moving his character toward where George and Sap are standing, silently. He runs them both down, even as they shout and try to defend themselves, killing them, then disconnects from the voice chat.</p><p>I can't stop giggling as he drops all of their loot, except the book, then logs back to the loading screen. </p><p>There's an energy shift, Clay's arms tightening around me as he leans us back and man-handles me until I'm across his lap so he can hold eye-contact. </p><p>"When were you on?" He asks, and it's quiet, almost tense. </p><p>I hesitate for just a second, searching his face, noting the tight brow. "Just for like... a second when you were on vacation." I respond.</p><p>"I thought—" he starts, looking like he's carefully sorting his words, "I remember you saying that you didn't want—" He continues.</p><p>I interrupt. "I— getting on with you still makes me nervous. Probably even more, now." I mumble, searching Clay's face. He looks, inquisitive, but more relaxed. </p><p>"Why?" He asks, starting to move his thumb in soothing circles. I'm thankful for it. </p><p>"I dunno..." I take a steadying inahale. "I want to keep the me and you thing very private. I don't think I'd do great. I mean look how fast George and Sap got it." I admit, fidgeting. </p><p>Clay's brow draws again, and I lift my hands to cover my face, "You make me so stupid and gushy. I only did the Among Us thing because I was high enough to forget to be scared. But.. I dunno." I hesitate for a second as his mouth opens. I don't let him speak. </p><p>"I know you're used to it, kind of, but that's so many fucking people watching and waiting for you to mess up. So many fucking people. I've seen some... not nice shit about me on Twitter, and for all everyone knows I'm just your buddy." I finally finish, vulnerable. </p><p>The last bit makes Clay's expression soften. He doesn't try to argue anymore, just leans in and kisses my forehead. </p><p>"Okay. It's okay. I understand." He says, soft, and I melt. </p><p>"Plus I—" I continue, remembering one more thing. "I don't want your family to find out via your fucking stream if I do that horrendous of a job keeping my mouth shut."</p><p>Clay groans for that. "I think we'd both get murdered in cold blood, actually, for that one, them finding out before I can directly tell them." He says, then leans forward.</p><p>I snort a laugh, nodding in agreement. He laughs back, and the tension starts to melt. </p><p>"Thank you for understanding, king." I say, barely not laughing, then lean in to kiss his cheek.</p><p>Clay pulls away from it, shaking his head, grinning like a fool. "I'm still gonna punish you for going behind my back to play with them." He says, smile predatory as he leans in and starts clicking around.</p><p>I watch his face instead of what he's doing. "Yeah?" I ask, tilting my head, about to play games. </p><p>I lean in until my mouth is next to his ear, nearly brushing against it with my lips. </p><p>"How, daddy?" I breathe out, and watch Clay's brain stutter to a stop. </p><p>I lean closer, nipping as his earlobe, then speak again. "You gonna put me over your knee and spank my ass?" I start, curling into a humored smile as he short-circuits. "Put that shock collar around my neck?" I ask, then can't help my laugh. </p><p>There's silence for another moment. "Well?" I ask.</p><p>Clay finally functions again. "N-no— that's— I-I was just going to— I was—" He tries, stuttering.</p><p>I have to bite my lip to stifle my laugh, grinning like an idiot. "What's wrong?" I ask, false sweet.</p><p>He turns to glare at me, taking a steadying breath. "No. I was just gonna play some like... bad music." He says.</p><p>I roll my eyes, lifting my nails, pretending to check them as I speak. "No... please... not bad music... I'm sooo scared." I say, monotone. </p><p>"Shut the fuck up." Clay groans back, then goes back to searching. </p><p>I have a burst of inspiration. Leaning forward and readjusting until I'm reverse cowgirl in Clay's lap, slapping his hands away again. </p><p>"If you want bad music, I've got just the song for you, piss slinger." I say, laughing.</p><p>I go straight to the search bar and start typing. I get as far as 'drink my piss' before Clay groans. </p><p>"You are an unmanageable menace upon society. A curse upon my life—" He mumbles as I finish typing.</p><p>I click the song 'drink my piss you nasty slut yeah yeah', cackling to myself.</p><p>Clay groans again, but starts laughing back as the song plays.</p><p>"What the fuck baby—" He groans out, laughing the entire time. "You're the worst—" </p><p>I snort a laugh, lifting onto my elbows, leaning forward, arching my back, and start shaking my ass to the beat, looking back over my shoulder. </p><p>"How about now?" I ask. </p><p>I watch Clay's eyebrows shoot up as he sits up in interest, two hands shooting forward to push up the hoodie and expose my ass so he can hold it.</p><p>"Nevermind." He says quick, eyes locked. "You're perfect and this is a great song with a totally normal title." He says.</p><p>I fold into laughter, sitting right back down, wheezing as I lean back into his chest. He makes a noise of protest, hands tight on my hips. </p><p>"I wanna see some ass c'mon—" He says.</p><p>I keep laughing. "No. That was all you get. That was your daily feeding." I slap at his hands as he groans, grabbing at me. </p><p>We both keep laughing, touching, teasing.</p><p>Eventually the energy dies back down, and I readjust. </p><p>"Okay, okay, okay." I start, getting comfortable. "You said something about speedrunning?" I ask, briefly checking the time to see it's almost 1 am. I hope I can keep up with this fucked sleep schedule. </p><p>"Yeah?" Clay says, breathy, excited, shooting back up to his keyboard. </p><p>The first manageable seed we get I step directly upon the temple pressure plate and perish as Clay loses his mind laughing at me.</p><p>The next seed I take an absurdly long time processing what's inside of the blacksmith chest. </p><p>"Slowrun world record." Clay mumbles out.</p><p>So, I go and kill myself on the iron golem to lash out. </p><p>The next good seed, I do a decent job, getting into the nether. </p><p>"Watch this—" I say, then jump and try to block clutch. I do not. I die. I slam my hands into his desk, feeling like the dumbest bitch alive.</p><p>"I saw." He says. And it's all it takes for me to laugh again.</p><p>The next doable seed I get I play everything relatively careful. And actually... succeed. I know it's nowhere close to an even decent time, but I feel my heart thump as I enter the end. Clay seems excited for me too.</p><p>"I'm God—" I start. </p><p>"Woah— watch—" he says simultaneously. </p><p>I get flung by the ender dragon and immediately scream, freezing up.</p><p>Clay's arms dart forward, and he water clutches for me. I feel my heart in my throat, fear subsiding as he chuckles against my back. </p><p>"Pay attention baby." He says, pressing a kiss to my shoulder, repositioning me.</p><p>I try to get a hit with a bed and immediately fail. I have to pause the game, taking a steadying breath, slight tremble in my hand. </p><p>"I can't do it." I pout.</p><p>Clay snorts a laugh, slapping my stomach. "You're giving up now? So close?" He asks.</p><p>I hesitate for just a second, before nodding, resolute. </p><p>He sighs, leaning forward, unpausing, and finishing the fight, moving his hands back to my waist. I take control of the character again, wiggling around and jumping into the credits.</p><p>"Oh my God, wow I can't believe you did it, all on your own—" Clay teases.</p><p>I laugh. "Yes. I was not assisted by one of the best Minecraft speedrunners in the world. I did this. It only took me more than an hour because I took an hour long break in the middle. I am not bad." I tease back. </p><p>I feel Clay exhale a laugh into my shoulder, then lift a hand to pat his head, glancing at the sexy little 4am on the clock, feeling exhaustion weigh me down. </p><p>"I'm going to get in bed. I know you don't sleep or whatever but... I... feel like death." I mumble, processing exactly how tired I am, swinging out of his lap.</p><p>"Me come too." Clay says standing as well, crowding against my back as we walk the few steps over.</p><p>"Getting in bed with my girl, might fuck around and invent the wheel later, I dunno." I say, teasing his statement. </p><p>"Ooga booga." Clay says, then tackles me to the bed. </p><p>I laugh, writhing under him, face sore from the amount of time I've spent smiling today. </p><p>Clay chuckles back, readjusting us so he's on his back, one arm threaded around my upper back, then tugs me in. I swing my leg over his stomach, laying my head on his chest, plastered to his side, settling in. He has no hesitation, letting out a pleased rumble, turning to get a hand on my ass and hold.</p><p>There's a moment where I just melt, before he leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. </p><p>"G'nite. Love you." He mumbles.</p><p>I feel everything flutter, feeling like I'm fucking floating. </p><p>"G'nite." I say into his chest, then in a moment of vulnerability. "Love you too."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. go ahead (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I huff, looking away from my phone to check Clay again. </p><p>It's 1pm he has the audacity to still be passed out. His cat is too, knocked out, laying on his back. I've been trying to just scroll my phone, relaxing until he wakes up, but I can't take it anymore.</p><p>I'm hungry.</p><p>I wriggle my way out of his hold and out of the bed, swinging to my feet and heading downstairs. I make my way into the kitchen, knowing I'm probably going to have to settle for a pop tart, considering how his kitchen was the last time I was here.</p><p>I open the pantry, spotting the box, and reach in. It's empty. Damn.</p><p>I spend some more time looking for food, finding crackers, condiments, and drinks. I grab a gatorade, deciding it'll have to be enough of a meal for now, then head back upstairs.</p><p>I'm gonna wake him up. </p><p>I immediately kneel on the mattress, crawling toward Clay, seeing he moved. He's now laying on his back, Patches absent. He looks totally relaxed. </p><p>Aw. </p><p>I swing a leg, straddling his stomach, plopping down with no hesitation. </p><p>Clay exhales from it, face scrunching up, like he's waking up. </p><p>"Wakey uppy." I say, then lean forward with my cold Gatorade, pressing it to his face.</p><p>He immediately jerks away from it, squinting his eyes open, small groans coming from his throat.</p><p>"Wha—" Clay starts, looking lost as he blinks awake. </p><p>"Hi." I chirp, grinning and scooting up his ribs. </p><p>Clay makes another noise, hands lifting to land on my thighs, face tilting down to stare where my legs are parted.</p><p>I roll my eyes, leaning forward, pressing a hand to cup his chin and make him look back up at my face. </p><p>"I'm hungry. I wanna eat." I say.</p><p>Clay overpowers my hand, looking straight down between my legs again. </p><p>"Me too." He mumbles out. </p><p>"Hey!" I chastise, squeezing his ribs with my thighs. </p><p>He looks up at my face again, still blinking away sleep as his hands creep higher, slipping under the hoodie to hold my hips. </p><p>"It's 1pm. Not until I get food." I say.</p><p>Clay stares at me, grumbling. "Fine I'll order—"</p><p>"No." I interrupt. "I want home-cooked. Lets go to the store." </p><p>He groans again, looking up, seeing the sincerity in my face. "Forreal?" He asks</p><p>"Please?" I ask, pouting my lip.</p><p>Clay closes his eyes, letting out a massive sigh, tightening his hands on me.</p><p>"Fine." He eventually mumbles out. "Get the fuck off me so we can go." </p><p>I let out an excited yelp, leaning in to kiss his cheek. I try to pull back immediately, but Clay's hands are quicker, one darting up to hold my head in place so we can connect our mouths. </p><p>I know he's the one that did it, but I let out a pleased noise, moving with his mouth, happy as can be. </p><p>Clay eventually relaxes his hold, slapping my ass as I lift off of him and head downstairs to get pants on. I go for shorts, letting the hoodie fall back down, seeing it falls longer than the shorts anyways. </p><p>Ah. </p><p>Clay appears at the stairs, shrugging his shirt over his head, then pulling on some sneakers. </p><p>I suddenly realize I only brought boots, not really thinking we'd need to leave. I hum, then go poke around in his shoes. I find some slides and put them on, and nearly piss myself laughing. </p><p>My foot takes up... maybe one-half of the shoe. Whatever, I'm still gonna wear it. I walk up to Clay lifting my foot for him to see, cackling to myself.</p><p>He stares at it, then at me. "Horrendous." He says, and I laugh again. </p><p>I let the slides audibly slap against the floor as I follow Clay out to his car, proud of myself. Whatever, I can look busted, we're just going shopping. </p><p>I play dumb music the entire short drive to the store. Clay's relatively silent, grumbly, still waking up, not quite ready to put up with me. </p><p>I lead the way, grabbing the cart, dashing to the back, throwing what I need in. I know what I want: french toast, so it's really just up to finding the ingredients for that. </p><p>Still... once I see the Pillsbury Halloween sugar cookies, I whip out the puppy eyes. Clay nods, once, and I grab two boxes. </p><p>I'm in the middle of comparing breads when a hand lands on the small of my back. I startle, as Clay leans into my space, getting my attention. </p><p>"I'm gonna take a leak. Be right back." He mumbles, and I snort a laugh, waving him off. </p><p>Now alone, I continue to read the bread like a book. It can't have been a minute when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn, smiling.</p><p>"How'd you do it that f— uh—" I stutter to a stop, mouth agape, eye to eye with his mother.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>"H-hi!" I stutter out, flustered, immediately fumbling for my phone. </p><p>"What are you in town for?" She asks, going in for the hug while I stay frozen.</p><p>"U-um—" I falter. "Just visiting some friends." </p><p>The second she pulls back I pull out my phone, and tap out my text.</p><p>'sont come back u r  mom here' 1:21 pm</p><p>I pocket my phone, looking back up to make eye contact. </p><p>"Are you gonna visit Clay at all?" She asks, smiling. </p><p>I swallow my nerves, trying my best to answer. "Maybe!" I say with an awkward laugh. "I'm really busy though I—" I continue.</p><p>She immediately lifts her brows, oh'ing. "Don't let me keep you then— nice to see you." She says, stepping back. "Come by for dinner sometime."</p><p>"Y-yes, ma'am." I say in return. </p><p>She looks me over, eyes briefly dropping to my feet and back up, then smiles even wider, waving as she turns and walks away.</p><p>The fucking shoes. The fucking hoodie.</p><p>I'm frozen, feeling my phone buzz like crazy in my pocket. My brain finally catches up and I throw a random bread into the cart and answer the call. </p><p>"What?" Clay immediately says. </p><p>I grimace, biting my lip. "So... she big knows." I say. </p><p>"Wh— how?" He asks. </p><p>"I look like a— Clay these obviously are not my clothes nor my shoes." I say, rolling my eyes.</p><p>"Oh." He says, quiet. "Well I mean, it could— you could have like— just because you're in a man's shit doesn't mean she knows it's mine." He says back.</p><p>I bite my lip. "Yeah... I mean, I guess." </p><p>"Well, whatever. We'll probably tell my family soon anyways." He follows.</p><p>I... hesitate for that. That makes me... incredibly nervous. I've known them all as long as him, I don't want them to think of me differently, or even dislike me if I don't live up to expectations.</p><p>"Yeah. Right, yeah." Is what I say back. </p><p>There's a moment of silence, then, I speak again. "I've got everything I need. I'll meet you up front." </p><p>"Okay." He confirms, then I hang up. </p><p>We check out, get home, and drag everything inside before Clay gets a call. </p><p>"My mom." He mumbles, looking at it, then answers. </p><p>"Hey ma." He starts, then glances at me. "No, I didn't know that." He pauses again, then starts to walk away, heading for privacy. </p><p>"Ma, I'm sure she'll let me know if..." I hear him say, then don't catch the rest. </p><p>I pick at my fingers, nervous now that I'm alone again. I decide to distract myself with cooking. The second I open stuff up Patches hops onto the counter. I smile, something small, private, letting her sniff each ingredient as I add it. </p><p>Clay finally reappears just as I finish cooking, plastering to my back, arms wrapping around my waist. </p><p>"Nah. She doesn't know." He says, quiet, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Smells good."</p><p>I bite my lip, somewhat relieved, somewhat doubtful, taking the last slice out of the pan and flopping it onto my plate. </p><p>"It should. It's done." I say, escaping his arms to lift my plate and drench it in syrup. </p><p>I drag my plate out to the living room, lift my legs, and settle onto the couch in a ball, putting on some random Youtube video and eating. Clay follows me out after a moment, sitting right next to me, rest of the couch forgotten. </p><p>I watch warily as he takes a bite, needing praise. </p><p>Clay smiles around his fork. "Good." Is all he says, immediately shoveling more into his mouth. </p><p>It's enough that I release the breath I was holding and eat as well. </p><p>The second I'm done I lean over, settling against Clay's shoulder, lounging. Once he's done he leans back, laying down. I follow, melting on top of him as he pulls his phone out and starts scrolling social media, dragging his hand across my back. </p><p>I watch his phone too, whatever was on TV, forgotten. </p><p>I chew my cheek as I watch him open his dm's, then avert my eyes. It feels like an invasion of privacy, somehow. I pull out my own phone, getting on my own own social media. </p><p>I reply to Clay's tweets, laughing to myself, wondering if he'll even see them, given that he doesn't follow me and I wouldn't let him follow me. </p><p>'coochie man says what'</p><p>'/ff '</p><p>'omg hi *blushes* OwO'</p><p>I don't know why I'm doing it. I'm genuinely just bored. There's maybe 10 minutes before Clay pushes his phone in front of my face. </p><p>George<br/>'collect ur gf'<br/>3 Attachments 2:58 pm</p><p>I immediately laugh, biting my lip. </p><p>"This you?" Clay asks. </p><p>I nod, turning my face into his chest, feeling myself warm. </p><p>"George is the worst." I say, muffled by Clay's shirt, then get on Discord, on my way to tell him that.</p><p>"Thought you didn't have Twitter?" He asks.</p><p>I hum. "Well, to you I don't." </p><p>He makes a noise of protest. "So George can follow you but I can't?" </p><p>I grin. "George isn't allowed to follow me either."</p><p>He grunts, then drops his phone in front of my face again. "What's this, then?" He asks, showing me a screenshot from George that shows a 'following' button on my profile.</p><p>I squint. "I don't— I declined it." I say, then go to check. </p><p>"Oh fuck— I didn't decline it—" I yelp, then immediately block George. </p><p>Clay starts laughing, and I see him start typing<br/>'GET BLOCKED'.</p><p>There's another moment before my phone chimes with an in-coming message.</p><p>George<br/>'please 🥺'<br/>'aren't we friends?' 3:17 pm</p><p>'no' 3:17 pm</p><p>'mrs dream ur being mean' 3:17 pm</p><p>'good i hate u' 3:18 pm</p><p>I almost type out another message, then George starts to spam.</p><p>'im not gonna last 😩'<br/>'im not gonna last 😩'<br/>'im not gonna last 😩' 3:18 pm<br/>... </p><p>I roll my eyes back into my head. I didn't realize I would have to pay the price for yesterday as well. </p><p>'why ru 2 so obsessed with the fact that clay was laying some pipe?'<br/>'and why did u keep listening for so long?<br/>'hm? 🤨' 3:18 pm</p><p>'😯'<br/>'were just proud of our boy'<br/>'and his (presumably) hot gf' 3:19 pm</p><p>I roll my eyes, going to type my next message. </p><p>'im ugly 👹' 3:19 pm</p><p>':doubt:' 3:19 pm</p><p>'guess youll never know :-)'<br/>'bitch boy' 3:19 pm</p><p>There's another few minutes before Clay speaks. </p><p>"Oh my God what did you say to them." He starts, "They're staging a fucking mutiny demanding a picture."</p><p>I laugh. "I told George I was ugly." I say, grinning.</p><p>Clay rolls his tongue in his mouth, just barely shaking his head. "Why must you antagonize them?" He chastises.</p><p>I hum, squinting at him. "100% brat." I say, and that's all I say.</p><p>"That's—" He starts, but sighs, dropping it.</p><p>There's another moment before Clay speaks. "Can I send them a picture, then? So they shut the fuck up?" He asks.</p><p>I shrug. "Up to you. I don't mind." I say. </p><p>"Help me pick." He says, then drops his phone in front of me, its on the picture of me asleep on the couch with Patches.</p><p>I feel myself melt, everything fluttering at the prospect of being shown off like this.</p><p>"This one..." He says, "Or..." He swipes to the next picture and I sigh.</p><p>Of course.</p><p>It's the picture of me nude, folded under him, in just thigh highs and a collar. </p><p>"...this one." He says, and I can hear the laughter in his voice.</p><p>I'm... pissed actually. Still, I melt into a smile, ready for payback.</p><p>"Send the second one." I say, false sweet.</p><p>Clay laughs, landing a hand on my shoulder. "Yeah? Am I sending your nudes to my friends?" He asks, still cheesing, not realizing he isn't going to win this one.</p><p>"Yep." I respond. "While you're at it, send the one you took after fucking me, too." I say, casual.</p><p>Clay's laugh starts to die off. "Baby, I was just—" </p><p>I interrupt him. "What's the hold up? Send your friends my nudes or I will."</p><p>"I'm not—" Clay tries to start, but I interrupt again.</p><p>"Okay." I say, then sit up, clenching my jaw. I get all the way off the couch, pulling the hoodie up and off, then drop my shorts, so I'm just in underwear, then walk toward the bathroom. </p><p>"Wait—" Clay says, sounding desperate, following me up, two hands landing on me to hold me in place. </p><p>"I'm sorry... I thought it was funny—" He says, quiet, burying his face in my neck. "My bad."</p><p>I should give up, but I'm in a mood now. I was so genuinely touched by the first picture, and to be disappointed after is coloring how angry I am.</p><p>I angle my phone, here and now, taking a picture on Snapchat. I'm not going to actually send it to his friends, but he doesn't know that. </p><p>The second the shutter clicks, Clay grabs at my phone. I fight him as well as I can, tugging my phone with both hands, but he wins. He stumbles back with my phone, brow drawn tight. </p><p>I pout, stepping toward him. "I'm sorry. I thought it was funny. My bad." I repeat his words back to him, still annoyed.</p><p>I see Clay's jaw tick, and I roll my eyes.</p><p>"I'm just throwing a fit. I wasn't going to actually send—" I start.</p><p>"It sent." He says, and I freeze, brow drawn tight.</p><p>"What? To who?" I ask, approaching closer. </p><p>Clay's brow stays drawn, face only going tighter. I huff a sigh and get as close as I can, trying to see the screen. </p><p>He takes a step back, blinking. "Who the fuck is Matt and why did he just send you a dick pic?" </p><p>I draw my own brow, confused, leaning in and finally seeing. The text chain is the picture of me stripped, a picture of a hard dick, then 'howd you know baby?'.</p><p>I grimace, looking away. "Ew, ew, ew." I say, then nearly gag. </p><p>I snatch my phone out of his hands face twisted up in disgust, closing the conversation.</p><p>"So that was horrible." I say, face still scrunched up and flushed with embarrassment. "Lets agree to leave that behind us." </p><p>I finally huff a laugh, looking at Clay. The energy is... not returned. He crosses his arms over his chest, shifting away from me with a tight expression.</p><p>"What?" I ask, deadpan.</p><p>Clay rolls his shoulders, glaring. "Why was he so goddamn ready to send you a dick pic? Do you like... know him?" He bites out.</p><p>I hesitate for a moment, wondering if we're really about to do this. "Because he's a creep...? Babe— he's some fuckin' guy from my class." I say, stepping toward him.</p><p>He steps back. "So you just— give shit like that out? It wasn't obvious what his intentions were? Dude thought y'all were about to fuck." </p><p>I sigh, exasperated. "He said some— shit, about a notes group chat. So I added him. That's it. Are you seriously pissing yourself over this?" I question, somewhat out of disbelief.</p><p>Clay finally sighs, making eye contact. "Fine. Block him." He says.</p><p>I pause, hating that he's making a demand like that, but know I should just listen and do it. I was going to do it anyways.</p><p>I take my phone back out and block him, huffing. I watch as Clay marginally relaxes, and try to approach again, lifting a hand to his upper arm. He lets me this time.</p><p>I pry his arms open, making room for myself to settle in against his chest, pressing a single soothing kiss to his jaw. </p><p>Clay grumbles, but his hands snap to position, handling roughly, gripping my body. My breath hitches in surprise as his head dips, latching to my neck. </p><p>He pulls back for a second to speak.</p><p>"You're fucking mine." </p><p>I inhale sharply, surprised, lifting both hands to his shoulders.</p><p>"Woah— possessive much? This some kind of shitty fanfic?" I mumble back, melting as he starts to work my neck with his mouth.</p><p>I don't get a verbal response, just more humming and grumbling, like he's feral or something. It makes me crack into a smile, shaking my head. </p><p>Clay pulls back once he's satisfied he's left a big enough claim, which, is embarrassing as all else for me. </p><p>"I still need to know what picture to send." He says with a sigh.</p><p>I smile, the reason we got into this situation in the first place. </p><p>"Lemme go— dress myself. Then we can take a picture together." I say, pulling back.</p><p>Clay nods, seemingly approving. </p><p>I step away, grabbing my bag. Knowing exactly what to put on. I go for the dress from me and Ellie's impromptu photoshoot, the one that made him go crazy, and slip it on.</p><p>Clay stares, jaw ticking again. </p><p>"The idea of other people seeing you in that makes me livid." He says.</p><p>I laugh at him. "Too bad? Grow up." </p><p>I approach, pressing an antagonizing kiss to his cheek. He grunts again, but pulls his phone back out, going to the camera. I loop my arms around him, pressing my face into his chest, and smile. </p><p>Clay takes and sends the picture, then we settle right back into the couch, him laying and me collapsed into his chest. </p><p>The responses are immediate. </p><p>Sapnap<br/>'yo is ur girlfriend single?' 3:41 pm</p><p>George<br/>'😍 mr and mrs dream 😍'<br/>'two hotties?'<br/>'im not gonna last 😩' 3:41 pm</p><p>I snort a laugh where I'm buried in Clay's chest, but his hand tightens on me. I look up, seeing his face. He's trying to look calm, but I can tell he's irritated. He locks the phone and plops it to the coffee table, immediately landing that hand on me as well.</p><p>"You good?" I ask, immediate, not known to ever have much of a filter.</p><p>"No."  Clay grumbles, then glances down at me, expression briefly softening. "Not your fault— I just... I've been fucked over before in relationships. So this is stirring some shit up for me." He admits.</p><p>I let out a breathy 'oh', suddenly a lot more sympathetic. "I'm sorry, can I help in any way?" I ask.</p><p>Clay sighs, shifting after a moment. "No. I'm literally just pissed that you're hot, and that I have to know people look at you and think about fucking you. I'm jealous over... nothing." He says.</p><p>My brows nearly lift into outer space. I wasn't expecting that much emotional maturity and awareness. It makes me... proud almost. </p><p>"Yeah? Well... I only have eyes for you." I say, trying to comfort him. </p><p>Clay relaxes his grip, so I know it must be working somewhat. </p><p>"For me it's you. Only you." I continue, the moment I can, he actually smiles for it. It makes me melt with affection. </p><p>There's only another second of softness before Clay's hands grip down, hard, as he flips us so I'm on my back and he's between my legs. He dives right back into my neck, pressing his teeth to the bruise he already left. </p><p>"You're all mine, baby."</p><p>His voice is breathy as he speaks. I feel my eyes fluttering, legs parting, making room and preparing for Clay to act up, assuming he will. </p><p>"I want to fuck you until all you can say is my name. Remind you who you fucking belong to." He says, voice rough, deep. </p><p>I'm frozen for a moment, liquifying under him, processing the words. I barely have time before he pulls back, wrapping a hand around my throat and holding. </p><p>"This gonna be okay, baby?" Clay asks, rolling his hips between my legs, I nod enthusiastically. </p><p>More than okay. Way more than okay.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. control (smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm asking to be rough. Very rough." Clay continues, double-checking, like I'm fragile. It's... sweet, in a way.</p><p>I tilt my chin back, lowering my eyelashes. "I know. Hurry up. I consent." I say back, breathy.</p><p>Clay splits into a small smile, then tightens his hand around my neck. I immediately moan, eyes fluttering shut. I have only a second to collect myself before he follows me down, pushing his tongue into my mouth.</p><p>My hands dart up to Clay's shoulders, holding on for what's probably about to be a wild ride, if this energy is indicative for how he's going to be. The hand he has wrapped around my neck shifts, lifting so he can push his thumb between my lips.</p><p>Clay pulls back, staring as he holds my mouth open. I moan, lathing my tongue, trying to submit. He looks... almost predatory as he leans in, pressing himself between my legs. </p><p>He gets close enough to kiss, but doesn't, parting his lips to share my breath and nothing else. I whine, feeling small, wanting the affection of a kiss. The corner of his lips quirk, but the affection never comes. </p><p>"Already mewling under me... my little fucking whore that can't wait for even a second..." He says.</p><p>Clay's hips snap against me, hard cock heavy where it presses between my legs. His hand shifts from my jaw, moving to cup my face, thumb dragging along my cheekbone.</p><p>"God, the way you just fucking spread yourself open... I know no one else made you act like this." </p><p>He's um... he's right.</p><p>I whimper, nodding. "Only ever for you." </p><p>I watch the predatory smile split his face, his hand moving again to force his fingers back between my lips, holding my mouth open. I moan for just a second, eyes fluttering, stomach clenching at the loss of control.</p><p>Clay lowers himself close to me again, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. He spits into my mouth.</p><p>"Take it." He says, low.</p><p>Oh shit. </p><p>So we're doing this.</p><p>Clay pulls his hand back to wrap around my throat, then comes in for a kiss, finally. It's rough, punishing, nips to my lip making my mouth sting as his tongue pushes mine back. </p><p>The hand Clay has wrapped around my throat tightens, making me light-headed as I choke on his tongue, feeling totally owned by him.</p><p>I whine when he pulls back, missing the affection. He lifts just far enough to stare down at me, and starts rolling his hips, continuously, fucking me over our clothes.</p><p>The noises I start to make are ridiculous, brain fuzzing over from the consistent oxygen deprivation. Clay continues to look me in the eyes as he chokes me. There's something... soothing, comforting there. The reassurance that this is a scene and nothing more.</p><p>I flutter my eyes, mewling, hooking my legs around Clay's hips. He finally pulls off my throat, dropping his arm to bracket my head in. He immediately pushes his hand into my hair, stroking idly, then leans in to kiss my forehead.</p><p>"You're doing so fucking good." He mumbles, then presses another kiss.</p><p>I barely have a chance to nod before his free hand pushes between us, hiking my dress up until it's just above my bellybutton. He's quick, rough with his movement, his hand pushing into my panties and making a home between my legs, fingers dragging against my clit.</p><p>I lift my hips into it, legs completely spread as his hand dips to push two fingers inside of me. He starts to fuck me with them, hard. </p><p>I immediately moan, both hands darting down to hold him at the wrist, the stimulation overwhelming. </p><p>I only briefly try to keep a level-head, before I forfeit. </p><p>"Daddy please—" I whimper out, already too gone to fucking care. </p><p>Clay makes a low noise, only going faster with his fingers. I squeeze his wrist tight with another warning, feeling myself flutter on his fingers with each curl and push.</p><p>Embarrassed of the noises I'm making, I try to duck my head, eyes fluttering shut. The hand Clay has in my hair tightens, pulling, forcing me to look back up.</p><p>"No." He says, simple. </p><p>I whine, eyes barely open, and dig my nails into his wrist, trying to dish back what I'm getting, but not present enough to do it well. My legs and hips lift, a small shiver building in them as Clay watches from atop me. </p><p>I feel his wrist flex, and suddenly he's pushing his massive fucking fingers as deep as he can, toying with my limits. I mewl, feet curling, getting close. </p><p>I swallow, trying to hide my face again. "Daddy—" I start, interrupted with a gasp as my hair is released, that hand snapping to my throat just under my jaw. </p><p>"Let me see that pretty little fucking face as you cum for me. Let me watch." His voice is breathy, affected, but still commanding. </p><p>I take a few steadying breaths, everything feeling more sensitive, floaty, as I pulse around Clay's fingers. I try my best to keep my eyes open, maintain that contact and comfort. But the control is... melting me. </p><p>Clay gets another good flick of his thumb against my clit, and it's all it takes. I arch, legs pulling tight, lifting even higher, squeezing him, and crest over into my orgasm. I assume at this pace, with this energy, the first of many. </p><p>I see the pleased smile spread on his face, never breaking eye contact for even a second as my voice goes high, needy, everything feeling soft and relaxed for a moment while I shiver through the pleasure.</p><p>It doesn't last long.</p><p>Clay never relents, fingers keeping the same pace inside of me until the overstimulation almost hurts, everything sensitive being fucked and played with like it's nothing.</p><p>I tense my legs, scrambling against his wrist, body arching and rocking, hips twitching, everything just trying to get away from his fucking hand. But, he keeps me held tight.</p><p>"Please." I manage to whimper, watching his face.</p><p>"I could keep this pace forever. My hand isn't tired and isn't going to get tired." Clay says, low, melting into a smile, watching my face twist. </p><p>I let out the smallest of whines, tailed by a moan as my legs jerk, the oversensitivity tapering back into pleasure. It makes me start to relax, melt under him again. </p><p>"Good girl." He breathes out, and something inside me settles. </p><p>Suddenly, Clay's hand tightens down, cutting my oxygen supply. The high is euphoric, my eyes rolling back in my head, noises I'm not in control of dripping out of me. I clench, milking his fingers with all that I've got, just letting him know I'm in here and I'm down for this.</p><p>Clay lets out a pleased hum, dragging his fingers deep, slow, curled directly up, petting my insides. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, getting me close to climax, before his hand relaxes again. He continues to fuck his fingers in and out of me, pressure on my clit feather light. </p><p>He's teasing. </p><p>"You wanna cum again?" He asks, loosening the hand around my throat.</p><p>I try to look at him, but my eyes won't stop rolling back, entire body writhing and twitching where he has me pinned. </p><p>"You gonna say my fucking name for me?" He asks again.</p><p>"Please, daddy." I whimper out.</p><p>The hand around my throat tightens again, barely giving me time to gasp, mouth falling open and staying open. Clay takes the opportunity, leaning in, leading with his tongue as he presses a rough kiss.</p><p>"My fucking name, baby." He says against my lips, biting. "Tell me who you belong to." </p><p>I moan, entire body pulling tight, threatening to cum anyways, even without the extra stimulation. </p><p>"You. Clay. Please— I—" I manage to moan out before his fingers curl up again, rubbing deep, thumb starting to circle my clit with rhythm and purpose. </p><p>"Cum for me." He says, and I do. A second time. </p><p>I barely find the presence to rock my hips underneath of him as his fingers slow inside of me. </p><p>"Tell me how that felt, baby." He mumbles, pulling his hand off my neck to cup my face, dragging his thumb along my lip.</p><p>I turn into it, letting my face get cradled, body otherwise out of my control as it twitches under him, cum-loose, overstimulated.</p><p>I finally let go of Clay's wrist, lifting both hands to the back of his neck and holding. </p><p>"You make me feel so fucking good." I manage to sigh out, voice small and strained. </p><p>Clay lets out a pleased hum, finally pulling his hand out of me and planting it on my waist, holding me tight. I lift my legs again, even as they shake, wrapping them around his back. </p><p>Clay presses flush to me, and I feel the pressure of his cock between my legs again. I buck my hips into it, getting a small moan from him in return. </p><p>His hand on my waist tightens, and he leans in, locking our lips for a contrastingly tender kiss.</p><p>"You think you're ready to go upstairs?" He asks against my mouth, pressing another kiss before I have a chance to answer.</p><p>I have to break the kiss, head rolling back on my shoulders. </p><p>"Yes sir." I sigh out, arching my body against his.</p><p>Clay lets out a pleased noise, dipping to kiss my jaw, then he's off of me. I turn toward him, brain hardly functioning as his hands jam under me, lifting me to his chest in a princess carry, like a claimed prize.</p><p>I manage to lift my arms, wrapping them around Clay's shoulders and pressing my face into his neck, hiding there. </p><p>This is gonna be... with how that was... this is going to be something else. </p><p>I take the control I can, while still present. I latch my mouth onto Clay's throat, just under his jaw, pressing my nails into the skin on the back of his neck. He lets out a shuddered moan, swearing under his breath, and tightens his grip on me, like I might slip away before he can throw me down and pay me back. </p><p>Clay pushes his bedroom door open with his knee, then drops me to standing. I have a moment to look up at him, confused, before his hands are stuffing up my dress, pulling it up and off. </p><p>I really wore it... for less than half an hour, I think.</p><p>I note that as I hear it thump on the floor. </p><p>Clay makes a pleased hum, pressing in close, a hand immediately going behind me to slap then grab my ass. It makes me a huff a laugh from where I'm buried against his chest. </p><p>I only feel humored for a moment before we're moving again, back toward the bed. It hits the backs of my knees, then Clay holds my back, lowering me in, careful, tender. </p><p>He pulls back once I'm laying, towering over me, dragging his eyes down my body. He takes a shuddered breath, expression briefly breaking as he drinks in the site of me laid out prone for him. </p><p>Clay blows a quick, steadying breath out, blinking away the moment, then takes a step back, pulling his shirt off. He paces toward the top of the bed, where my head rests, reaching forward to cup my face.</p><p>I readjust to lean into it, pressing my lips to his wrist, staring up at him. He leans in closer, just watching, all hunger. </p><p>Clay's hand gets rougher in it's movements, insistent as his thumb drags along my cheek. He tilts his head back, staring down at me, then slides his hand until it's wrapped around my neck, just holding. </p><p>He tightens, and my body tenses, eyes fluttering. I love when he toys with me like this. </p><p>"Pretty." He mumbles out, going tighter around my neck, even as I arch, legs dragging across the sheets, thoughts going fuzzy. "You're so pretty like this." He continues. </p><p>It makes my stomach flutter.</p><p>"I can see how good I make you feel." He takes a heavy breath. "It gets me so fucking excited. Knowing I get you fuck you until you're gone, only thinking about the way I'm fucking you. Feeling you." </p><p>I manage to blink up at him again, tilting my chin back, trying to submit, confirm. </p><p>He is. He's all I can think about when I'm like this. Nothing else.</p><p>I let my legs fall open further, like an invitation, hips lifting off the mattress. </p><p>Clay's hand loosens as his eyes follow the movement down, watching me wordlessly beg for his cock. </p><p>"Fuck." He breathes out, hand letting go of my throat, trailing down my body, just resting on my stomach. </p><p>Clay stares a moment longer, before he lifts, going over me to settle into bed against my back. I try to turn into him, but he stops me, hand landing on my hip and holding me in place.</p><p>He presses flush to my back, grinding against my ass. I tilt my head back into his chest, catching my breath. My heart pounds in excitement, not nerves, not anything else. I know he's going to take care of me. </p><p>Clay's hand dips, grabbing my thigh hard enough to bruise, pulling my legs open. His hand immediately dives between them, kneading me over my panties, rolling his hips against my ass, giving himself friction. </p><p>I hear his sated exhale the second he makes contact, unable to control my own moan. </p><p>"Just fuck—" I start, but Clay's free hand pushes under my head, covering my mouth. </p><p>"You don't have permission to speak right now, baby." He says, low, controlled.</p><p>I shiver at the dominance, whimpering into his palm as his hand hooks into my panties, pulling them to the side to expose me. His fingers are fast, two gliding through my slick, then circling my clit, like a threat. </p><p>This is hot as fuck, but I'm going to pay him back for this. Still, I submit, allowing it just because of how good it feels. </p><p>I hear Clay hum, pleased, before he presses his head to mine, chin hooked over my shoulder to watch, grip on my face even tighter. He turns in and presses a surprisingly tender kiss to my cheek. </p><p>It makes me melt to be cared for. I whine, tears pricking in my eyes, and Clay tenses.</p><p>"You okay?" He asks, soft, breathy, hand going loose around my face, slowing the fingers he has between my legs.</p><p>I nod into his palm, taking a shuddered breath, blinking back tears. "Yes. Yeah. It's good. It's just so fucking good." I manage to steady enough to say, eyes fluttering. </p><p>I feel Clay laugh, vibrations deep in his chest against my back. "Just say the word. It stops." He says, then presses another kiss. "I love you. You ready to go again?" </p><p>I feel gone, just from those words, just from the delicate handling. "Yes, daddy."</p><p>There's another laugh, before suddenly everything snaps back into motion. </p><p>Clay's hand drops to my throat, tightening immediately as his fingers become demanding, playing with me at a pace that I cannot last for. </p><p>I mewl out a desperate moan, thighs already shivering, both hands lifting to wrap around the wrist of the hand he's using to choke me. </p><p>It's... insane that I've already cum twice, but he still has me acting like this, so far fucking gone. </p><p>Clay's mouth attaches to my neck, teeth teasing the skin, somehow keeping me held in place flush to him even as I arch and tremble, writhing against him.</p><p>I clench my teeth, everything pulling tight as I'm barreled toward my climax. Clay's fingers move against my clit exactly how I like. He knows it too. He knows what the fuck he does to me.</p><p>I let out a strangled moan, everything curling, tensing. I drop one of my hands to his other wrist, squeezing down with both, holding on as well as I can as I cum. I arch, shivering, trembling, a mess.</p><p>Clay doesn't stop. Not even for a second. </p><p>I mewl, everything feeling incredibly sensitive as his fingers keep playing with me like he owns me. I guess that's the point, though. </p><p>"We can do this until you're fucking numb." Clay mumbles into my neck, and I feel myself pulse again, pleasure trying it's hardest to push past the complete overstimulation. </p><p>I dig my nails into his wrist, scraping with them as punishment for what he's doing to me. </p><p>It makes Clay laugh again. "Yeah? Is there something you wanna say, baby?" He asks, cocky. "Go ahead. You can speak." He says, then loosens his hand around my throat. </p><p>I mewl out another desperate moan, bucking against his hand. "Fuck you." I whimper out. </p><p>Clay grinds against my ass for that, fingers somehow faster between my legs. "Repeat that." He says, controlled. </p><p>Something tells me I shouldn't. Good thing I'm stupid.</p><p>"Fuck you, Cla—ah—" I'm cut off with a desperate moan as his hand shifts to slam his fingers inside of me, curling, his thumb switching to my clit. </p><p>My body reacts, not giving me a choice. I'm going to cum again. This is... humiliating. Four. And I'm still in my fucking underwear. </p><p>"Daddy— please—" I breathe out, a warning, then throb on his fingers, nearly shouting as my climax rushes in. </p><p>My entire body shakes with the effort, legs and thighs tensing as I kick out, thrashing in his hold. </p><p>Clay laughs at my struggle, keeping me pinned, but lifts his hand out of me to my stomach, stroking with his thumb, seemingly sated. </p><p>"Don't ever forget that." He mumbles, then presses a kiss to my neck. "Don't ever fucking forget who makes you cum like that." </p><p>I nod, whimpering, and Clay shifts to trail kisses down my jaw. I feel exhausted, entire body rocking with the aftershocks of my orgasm. </p><p>Clay continues to kiss my neck, light, soft, reassuring. I relax into it, until I have control of my body. I roll my hips back into his lap, trying to feel his cock press against me. He hums, pleased, and pushes into it, rocking us together.</p><p>"I want you to fuck me." I sigh out, desperate, lifting both of my hands to hold the hand Clay's kept curled around my throat just to steady myself. </p><p>He huffs a small laugh. "There she is." He mumbles out, pressing another soft kiss.</p><p>I move my body with more insistence, desperation. I want to be folded up under him. I want him to pound me, own me. I want him inside of me. </p><p>"Please, Clay." I whine.</p><p>Clay moans at my movements, pressing himself into it. His hand on my waist grips down, and suddenly I know I'm gonna get what I want. </p><p>"Yeah?" He starts, voice breathy, affected. "God, you're my little fucking whore. All of that—" He exhales, hand moving to force my panties down my thighs. "—and you're still begging for me fuck you." </p><p>I moan, nodding.</p><p>Clay retracts, sitting up to his knees, getting my panties off me all the way. He supports himself, shoving his pants and boxers down and off, and suddenly we're both nude. </p><p>"Get on your stomach and lift your ass." He says, hand resting on my hip.</p><p>I nod, excited to be taken like this, then do. I lift to my knees, arching as well as I can, presenting as I bury my face in his pillows. I'm not surprised when my ass gets slapped. I giggle, happy, and sway my hips like a show, rolling my back. </p><p>Clay lets out a pleased hum, both hands holding my hips as I move. He reels back and slaps my ass again, hard enough to hurt. My movements pause as I briefly flinch away from the hit. </p><p>One of Clay's hands grips down on my hip, keeping me steady. I feel the other swipe through my pussy, collecting slick before it retracts again. There's only a moment before I feel the head of his cock, pressing against me.</p><p>I moan, ready to be fucked, but it doesn't come quite yet. Instead, Clay holds his cock, dragging it through my pussy, to my clit, and grinding against me there. </p><p>It feels... good. But, it's not what I fucking want. </p><p>I dip my back, arching as hard as I can, then roll my hips, forcing Clay's cock to drag, catching on my entrance. I hear him exhale, sharp, before he slaps my ass again, holding his hand to where he hit and kneading the flesh. </p><p>"Behave. C'mon." He mumbles out, sounding much less steady than he's acting.</p><p>"Just fuck me already." I say with a whine.</p><p>"Mouthy brat." He says back, then slaps my ass again. "Just— give me a fucking second."</p><p>I smile where my face is mashed into his pillows. I love that one. Mouthy. It's so accurate it's embarrassing. </p><p>I feel the mattress dip as Clay shifts, getting himself into position. This hand he has on my hip grips hard, holding me in place, then he's finally pushing in. </p><p>I feel my eyes flutter. For as much as I love Clay's hands, I love this. The stretch of his cock pushing into me, connecting us. I moan. </p><p>"You feel so..." I start, tapering off with a sated moan as Clay bottoms out inside of me. </p><p>He blows out a steadying breath, rocking against me. </p><p>"God, you feel so fucking good on my cock." Clay says. I clench down, pulsing on him and he moans. "Holy shit— baby—" </p><p>The hand Clay has on my hip slides higher, traveling down my back until it's between my shoulders. He presses there, pinning me, then snaps his hips, once.</p><p>I feel everything go tight, stomach clenching at the feeling of Clay's cock dragging in and out of me. The angle is— the angle is gonna kill me. I moan, using his hand on my back like an anchor point, arching so I can bounce against him, riding his cock like this. </p><p>Clay lets out a low, pleased hum, cut with a moan as I give him that movement. </p><p>"Such a perfect fucking hole for me." He says letting out a shuddered sigh, slapping my ass again as I bounce on him. </p><p>Clay's almost totally still behind me, moaning, holding my ass as I throw it back on his dick, frantic dominant energy forgotten now that he's inside of me. </p><p>This pussy got him in a trance. </p><p>I warm, proud of the effect I'm having, adjusting to go faster.</p><p>I moan as Clay finally works my movements with me, soothing the hit on my ass. He suddenly snaps his hips and I have to pause for just a moment, gasping. It's enough that he groans, and spurs into motion. The hand he's kept on my ass readjusts to my hip, holding tight.</p><p>There's an audible slap as Clay starts to snap his hips against me, collecting himself and taking control again. I relax into it, dipping my stomach as low as I can, fluttering on his cock.</p><p>Clay snaps his hips particularly hard and I drag up the sheets. I let out a desperate moan for it, eyes rolling back into my head. </p><p>"Yeah? Feels that good?" He asks, confident, speeding up. </p><p>I mewl, turning my face into his pillows and biting down. It does feel that good.</p><p>His voice pitches low. "Who's doing this to you? Say my fucking name."</p><p>"Clay—" I moan his name out like breath, repeated, constant. </p><p>He lets out a pleased noise, dropping his hand around my hip between my legs, pushing his fingers into my slick, circling my clit like a reward. </p><p>"Good girl." He sighs out. </p><p>It's so much. It's too much. The heat curls in my stomach and I know I won't last.</p><p>I whimper where my head is pressed, turning to look back over my shoulder to see Clay. He looks... gone, mouth parted, brow drawn tight in focus. </p><p>"I'm—" I start, interrupted with a strangled moan as Clay snaps his hips particularly hard. My eyes roll back in my head again, exhaled moan passing my lips. </p><p>I collect myself. "I'm gonna fucking cum—" I manage to moan out through gritted teeth.</p><p>Clay's hips slow for just a moment, his face going lax in surprise, before he's right back to it, fucking me into the mattress. </p><p>"God, you're fucking amazing to watch under me like this. Just fucking—" He pauses, moaning, briefly slowing to rock against me, before he's back to his punishing pace. "—fucking, so— ah—"</p><p>Clay stops, letting out a stuttered moan as I clench down on his cock, cresting over into my orgasm. I feel my entire body tremble with the effort, insides fluttering, pulsing, trying to bring him down with me.</p><p>I know I'm being loud, moaning, rocking against Clay. But he's loud too, stuttered moans falling from his mouth.</p><p>"—pretty." He says, finally finishing his thought. </p><p>I twist my hands in his sheets, feeling totally spent, oversensitive, owned, floating.</p><p>"You gonna keep going for me?" Clay says, and I'm dragged back to my consciousness.</p><p>I nod, though, I'm not sure how much more I can.</p><p>Clay hums, back to the same insane pace as I bite down, nearly shouting. My thighs tremble, ready to give out. I take in a heavy breath, steadying myself, then roll my hips back again, taking the control.</p><p>He laughs, low, lifting both hands to support me, slowing his movements, letting me ride.</p><p>"C'mon baby. Make me cum, then." He says.</p><p>I mewl out a moan, craning to look back. I see he looks relaxed, eyes half-lidded, watching himself fuck in and out of me.</p><p>I clench, and watch his eyes briefly flutter shut. </p><p>"That's it— fuck baby—" He sighs out, hips instinctively thrusting with my movement. </p><p>"Good girl. Make me proud." </p><p>The words melt me. I feel my face warm, the praise going right toward making my stomach flutter. I swallow, bracing myself, and put my fucking back into it, determined. </p><p>Clay arches, cock flexing inside of me as his abdomen tenses. </p><p>"That's— that's— baby—" He moans out, voice higher, tighter. </p><p>I can tell he's close.</p><p>Clay draws in a ragged exhale. "Can I—" He starts.</p><p>I whimper, nodding, not caring what he's going to ask. The answer is yes. </p><p>His hand drops back between my legs, fingers sliding against my pussy, right to my clit. He wants me to cum again. </p><p>My breath hitches sharply. I bite my lip, hard enough to draw blood as I lose my rhythm, body jerking and shivering as Clay stimulates me again. </p><p>"C'mon—" He starts, interrupted by a moan. "Keep cumming on my cock. I—" I clench down, trying to get everything sensitive, feeling another orgasm building for me.</p><p>Clay lets out a sighed moan. "I love how noisy you get baby—" </p><p>For that, I moan, constant, desperate. </p><p>"Yeah— that's—" He moans back, suddenly snapping his hips with my movement, chasing.</p><p>Our bodies collide, slick with sweat, everything grinding against everything as Clay keens, tilting forward and pressing against me. </p><p>His thrusts are completely ragged, noises incoherent as he scrambles against my waist to hold me tight. </p><p>Clay snaps his hips against me with a guttural moan, rough, grinding himself as deep as he can get as his cock jerks inside of me. Suddenly his noises get higher, more constant. </p><p>"That's my— that's— that's my good girl—" He moans out, rocking me along with him as he cums.</p><p>I nearly go limp, completely exhausted, throbbing, around Clay's spent cock. I expect a moment for him to collect himself, instead, he pulls out almost immediately, flopping to my side. The arm he has curled around my waist tenses, and I'm dragged on top of him, my back flush with his chest.</p><p>"I'm not fucking done with you." He says, low, breathy, and suddenly his hand is back between my legs. </p><p>I whimper, face pulling tight, beyond gone. </p><p>"Daddy please—" I start, thighs shivering as he drags his cum to my clit, using it like lubricant. </p><p>"One more time for me." He says right back.</p><p>Holy shit.</p><p>It's like my body hears him, legs spreading further open. I try to relax, but my body is reactive, every touch dragging me closer to climax.</p><p>If he's gonna act like this— fuck it. I grab for his cock, wrapping my hand around it. </p><p>Clay exhales, hard, pressing into my hand. </p><p>Now we're both here, gone, rocking into each other's stimulation and over stimulation. I doubt he'll get hard again fast enough, but I can try. </p><p>I squeeze, and he whines, cock throbbing in my hand. His noises have me close, fast. I turn my head, pressing my cheek into his chest, shuddering through a moan. </p><p>I feel my legs lift and tense, everything sensitive as I pulse, drooling Clay's cum out of my pussy, orgasm looming. I start to roll my hips with his movements, chasing, his cock nearly forgotten, just holding it. </p><p>"I'm—" Is all I get out before I moan again, body tensing as I crest over. </p><p>I immediately dart a hand down to his wrist, holding tight, digging in with my nails. My hips jerk, lifting, everything out of control as I rock through the after-shocks of my orgasm. </p><p>Finally, Clay relents. He pulls his fingers out of me, swiping them through the cum-slick mixture, then lifts his hand to my face.</p><p>"Clean it up." He says, low.</p><p>I barely blink my eyes open, lips parting automatically, and take his fingers into my mouth. </p><p>Clay lets out a pleased hum and I look up to his face. I see he's relaxed, just watching my lips go tight around his fingers as he fucks them into my mouth. </p><p>"Good girl." He mumbles, pulling them out, and using that hand to grab my chin, forcing me to look up. He comes in on it, meeting my mouth for a kiss. </p><p>"Good girl." Clay sighs out again, right against my lips. </p><p>I moan, feeling his tongue push into my mouth, body almost completely numb. I melt into the kiss for as long as I can, but the angle is awkward for both of us. </p><p>Clay breaks the kiss first, and even though I needed him to, I whine, absolutely desperate, needy for affection.</p><p>"I know. I know baby." He mumbles out, voice finally soft as he dumps me to the mattress and crawls on top of me.</p><p>It makes me feel safe to be covered by Clay like this, the trembling anxiety in the small of my stomach fading. I didn't realize I was that close to a drop.</p><p>"I've got you. I've always got you." He says, softer, quieter, leaning in to kiss my face.</p><p>It's soothing, to say the least. </p><p>I go completely lax, melting into the mattress. Clay's full body weight atop me keeping me pinned. </p><p>I lift my hands after a moment, a small tremble in both as I thread them into Clay's hair. I tilt my head back, and he immediately accepts, letting out a small pleased noise as he buries himself in my neck, kissing there. </p><p>I let out a sated sigh, everything warm and loose again before Clay pulls back. He stares down at me, expression soft. </p><p>"Who do you belong to?" He asks, voice breathy.</p><p>I can reply without hesitation or thought.</p><p>"You." I sigh back.</p><p>Clay splits into pleased grin, and comes right back down on me, lazily kissing at my neck. </p><p>"You're my fucking girl." He coos out, pressed against my skin, gushy again. </p><p>It makes me laugh, tugging on his hair as punishment. He makes me so fucking soft. </p><p>"And you're my daddy Minecrafter—" I start, interrupted with a yelp as Clay slaps my ass, wheezing out a laugh of his own. </p><p>This is my favorite part. The after. </p><p>Don't get me wrong, I love to get fucked upside down and sideways. But, afterwards, when we're both warm, soft, and stupid, and Clay has that blissed out look on his face, I melt, knowing I did that. I made him that happy. He made me this happy.</p><p>"—then you're my Minecraftress—" Clay says.</p><p>I groan in protest, dropping my hands to slap at his back. </p><p>"I'm gonna just leave now, I think, after that—" I say, teasing,</p><p>Clay laughs at me, holding tighter. "Try." He says back.</p><p>I take it as a challenge. I go to kick, trying to lift my legs. The second I get them of the mattress they tremble uncontrollably and flop back down. Clay feels it, and keeps laughing.</p><p>I pout. "I'll get you in like an hour or two I swear—"</p><p>"Sure, sure." Clay continues, voice blanketed with humor. "If I haven't folded you in half again, sure." </p><p>I groan, going totally limp. "I can't—" I moan out, "You're trying to kill me with your penis." I tease. </p><p>Clay snorts. "And hands. Don't forget hands." </p><p>"—and hands." I whine in the same tone, tagging onto the statement.</p><p>We both laugh for a moment, wrapped up in each other, blissed out, too happy to acknowledge how sweaty and gross we are. </p><p>I quirk into a smile after a moment, ready to keep being dumb. "Quick, go check Discord and make sure your homeboys didn't listen to you just banish my pussy to the shadow realm." I mumble out. </p><p>Clay pauses his movement against my neck to wheeze. "Oh fuck— I'm not gonna last—" He barely manages to moan out. </p><p>It makes me smile hard enough my cheeks hurt, rubbing his shoulders with my hands. I wish I could be like this forever. </p><p>Suddenly I'm pouting. </p><p>"I don't wanna go home to tomorrow, ugh." I complain.</p><p>Clay briefly laughs, nipping at the skin of my neck like a punishment. "Then don't." He says simply.</p><p>I snort a laugh. "Yeah. Let me drop out with a semester left and come be your housewife. Except— I won't be your wife. And I won't clean or cook. Literally all I'll do is blow you 24/7." I say, joking. </p><p>"Sounds like a good career path to me." Clay teases back. "What's the job title? CEO of sloppy?" </p><p>The smallest, stupidest part of my brain considers it for just a second before I shake the thought. I laugh at his joke, slapping his back, then relaxing my hands to rub again. </p><p>"Yeah. And the salary is paid in cumshots." I say back.</p><p>It gets Clay to wheeze where he's buried in my neck. It makes me overwhelmingly happy. I turn, pressing a kiss to his forehead, relaxed, taken care of, his.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. big miss steak (plot, angst)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cw: handsy creepy guy, panic</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I think you left your laptop." Clay says, followed by a small laugh.</p><p>I freeze, walking in my front door. I literally just<br/>finished driving back when he called me. </p><p>"No—" I start, spinning to kick the door shut and open my bag, digging in disbelief. </p><p>He's right, no laptop.</p><p>I let out a guttural groan. "NOOO. Why— why am I such a fucking degenerate." I whine out, pouting.</p><p>Clay keeps laughing at me, bright and tinny over the phone call. </p><p>"Do you need it that bad? You have your uh— your desktop." He says.</p><p>I huff a sigh. "I don't need it. I guess. But I do want it. Work is gonna be so fucking boring without it." </p><p>"Poor little baby." Clay says, chuckling. "You want me to like, mail it to you? I can pay for priority."</p><p>I huff a sigh. "No. It's— whatever. I'll get it whenever we see each other next." I pause for only a second. "Speaking of... so like... I'm free this weekend..." I'm trying not to sound too thirsty, but I am.</p><p>Clay hums, hesitating before he speaks. "I'm actually busy, sorry. Friend's birthday." </p><p>I pout immediately. "Next weekend?"</p><p>He grunts, taking a moment. "That's Halloween isn't it?" </p><p>I immediately light up, switching him to speaker and going to check. "It is!" I chirp.</p><p>"Yeah? Maybe you could come down in a costume. I'll decorate, buy some candy." Clay says.</p><p>"No." I immediately say, as Clay makes a noise of protest. "Well I mean yes but— you should come up instead. Ellie and I already agreed we're going to get drunk and watch Monster House and other shit."</p><p>Clay barks out a laugh. "Oh? Get drunk and watch Monster House? Such— important plans. I see why you would wanna work around them." </p><p>"Yes. Thank you for understanding, king." I say back, maintaining my serious facade.</p><p>I hear Clay huff, whether it's another laugh or a sigh, I can't tell. "Fine. I'll come up." He pauses for a moment. "You gonna wear a maid costume for me?" </p><p>I lift my brows. This horny mother fucker—</p><p>"Sure." I start, pausing for the drama. "If you wear one for me. Cat ears too." I say, cracking into a grin. </p><p>There's silence in response. Then, "No."</p><p>"Oh come on, Clay." I say, pouting. "Pwease?" </p><p>"I—" Clay speaks again, hesitant. "If I do will I get the skin sucked off my dick for it?"</p><p>I grimace. "Ew— Clay— hello?" I say, disgusted by his word choice. Still, I find the grimace breaking into a smile, a laugh threatening to come out. </p><p>Clay laughs, unabashedly, proud of himself to no end. </p><p>"Never mind. You can dress up as bozo the honking dancing clown if you're gonna be a fucking freak." I tease.</p><p>Clay hums, thinking for just a moment. "If I wear a clown costume will I still get some grip?"</p><p>I bite my lip, stifling my laugh. "What do you mean? You're already a clown in a clown costume and I've been letting you hit. So yeah." </p><p>"Rude—" Clay starts, but I can hear the laughter in his voice. </p><p>Suddenly, it's like I remember what I'm doing, and realize I've just been sat down talking on the phone. I have to be at work like— soon.</p><p>"Shit— I have to go." I say.</p><p>Clay chuckles. "Yeah, yeah. Run away before I can get you back." </p><p>"Big man... I have to go to work." I say back, almost hesitant. I know I have to go but... I love talking to him so much. </p><p>"Alright. Alright. Bye then. Love you." Clay says, absolutely no hesitation.</p><p>God, it makes my heart skip. </p><p>"Y-yeah." I pause, hating that I'm always the one choking on the words. "L-love you too." I say, and immediately hang up before Clay can roast me for the stutter. </p><p>I finally see the time: 11:41 am, and nearly scream. I need to go.</p><p>***</p><p>It's Thursday and I feel like I've lost my sanity. I stare at my homework, nearly vibrating, refusing to touch it. I close the page, open Minecraft, and text Clay.</p><p>'👉👈' 7:54 pm</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>2 New Messages<br/>'yes?' <br/>'is there something u need?' 7:57 pm</p><p>I have to bite my lip, already smiling like a maniac. Do I have three papers due in two days? Yes. </p><p>Would I rather bother Clay and make him do something with me instead of focus on that at all? Also yes.</p><p>'pway game? 🥺' 7:57 pm</p><p>':('<br/>'im really sorry'<br/>'we bout to record sumn' <br/>'maybe in a couple hrs baby' 7:58 pm</p><p>It doesn't matter that much, but still, I frown. </p><p>'ok 😞' 7:58 pm</p><p>Is all I send back. I sigh, pocketing my phone and lifting to my feet to stretch. Figure I'll go for a walk, waste time like that.</p><p>It's not cold, but I slip on a hoodie so I can look a bit more shapeless, then swing out my room. I go straight for Ellie's doorway, leaning against it like a dog wanting attention. </p><p>"Hi." I say.</p><p>Ellie startles, looking up from her homework as well. I guess it's just that time of the semester.</p><p>"Yeah?" She asks, removing a single AirPod.</p><p>"I'm gonna walk to 7/11 and get a snacky. You wanna come?" I ask.</p><p>Ellie lifts her brows. "Why don't you just drive?" </p><p>I purse my lips. "I want it to take a long ass time, so I'm walking. No, I don't have three papers."</p><p>She quirks into a smile for that, huffing a laugh and shaking her head. "No. I shouldn't. But can you bring me back peach rings?" </p><p>I pout. I guess no one wants to hang out with me. "Fine... if you really hate me and aren't coming..." </p><p>Ellie lifts her brows, looking to the side. "Wah, wah, wah." She mocks.</p><p>For that, I finally walk into her room, and smack the back of her head. </p><p>"Shut the fuck up, Waluigi." I say as I hit.</p><p>Ellie immediately spins. "HEY!" She yelps, and I'm out. </p><p>I run, giggling, while Ellie shouts after me. Barely remembering to swipe my wallet and headphones along the way. I start my walk leisurely, already not wanting it to be done, having gone this route a million and one times for the same purpose. </p><p>I put on Gorillaz and suddenly I'm walking a lot faster, hyped by the music, swaying my hips, nearly bouncing with the beat of the music.</p><p>Ten minutes into a fifteen minute walk, it goes south.</p><p>I feel a hand land on my waist and startle, jerking away. I spin toward the offender, ready to fucking swing, when I see the fucking— dude from my class. Matt, I'm sure this time. </p><p>Damn. He's talking at me.</p><p>I try to put on a calm face, pulling out a single earbud and pausing my music.</p><p>"—calling your name and you didn't respond." He says, me catching the tail end of it. </p><p>I laugh, the way women laugh when they want to soothe someone's ego. "Sorry. I was listening to music." I say, lifting a single earbud like an example.</p><p>"Oh." Matt starts, landing his hand right back on my waist. I jerk away from the touch again, drifting in the direction I need to be going.</p><p>"What're you doing out this late? All alone?" He asks. </p><p>I flit my eyes up, sending a silent prayer that he'll go the fuck away. "Walking to the gas station. Got hungry." I say, tight lipped.</p><p>Matt's brows lift. "I'll walk you." He says, sounding pleased.</p><p>I grit my teeth. It seems like a sweet enough offer but... this is the guy I accidentally sent an underwear pic too. I've seen his ugly dick. He wants me to see his ugly dick. </p><p>Still, if just he acts normal enough for the rest of the walk, it'll be fine. </p><p>He doesn't.</p><p>Matt's hand lands on my waist again, grip much less shakable as he pulls me into his side. I try to wriggle out of it, but he squeezes tighter.</p><p>Well this isn't good. </p><p>"You're holding me kinda tight—" I mumble, a small tremble in my voice. </p><p>"You know—" Matt starts, totally ignoring or maybe disregarding what I said. "I keep thinking about that picture and— why just a picture. You know?"</p><p>My fingers itch to go for my phone, call someone, anyone. But, I'm not sure how that'll go. The tremble in my chest gets worse. I'm not sure pushing back is going to be the best option here.</p><p>I hatch my plan. Get to 7/11, go to the bathroom, call Ellie to come pick me up. </p><p>For now... despite the way the bile rises in my throat, play along. </p><p>"Yeah? What do you mean?" I ask, quiet. </p><p>"My place is like— 10 minutes..." He starts, and I zone out. I don't need to hear this. </p><p>Just get to the fucking gas station. </p><p>Every step is like agony, my heart in my throat, the hand I don't want heavy on my waist. I can feel the relief when I see 7/11 in the distance, and start walking faster. </p><p>Matt keeps pace, hand planted on me like I'm an object. </p><p>The second we step into the gas station my eyes dart around. "I'll be back—" I say, ripping his hand off and darting for the bathroom.</p><p>The second I get in I lock the stall, pressing my back flat to the door, catching my breath. I'm out. I should be out. </p><p>I drop to a crouch, hands shaking, and call Ellie. It rings once... twice... thrice... an answer never comes.</p><p>Fuck. Shit. Fuck.</p><p>"No, no, no, no, no, not right now, Ellie please—" I whimper out, calling again. </p><p>Same thing. No answer. </p><p>I plant my face in my knees, taking a steadying breath. I call again. No answer. No shot.</p><p>I fully whine this time, panic building high in my throat, hollowing me out. I need— I fucking need— I have my phone next to my face, calling Clay before I realize that I am. </p><p>"What— babe— I told you we were recording." Is how Clay answers, before I can even get a word out.</p><p>Hm. I don't like that. </p><p>"I—" I start, freezing up. "My bad." I mumble back, then hang up. </p><p>What the fuck was that? I swallow the lump in my throat, face setting. Great, now I'm not only panicked, I'm pissed. </p><p>I anchor onto that, using it as a way to steady myself. I guess I'm gonna do this alone. </p><p>I lift back to standing, roll my shoulders, and step out of the bathroom. Matt's standing there, chatting with another guy from our class, Evan maybe. </p><p>I shoot him a panicked look, pleading for help. I see the realization dawn on his face, his brow drawing as he takes a step toward me, away from Matt. </p><p>"Hey— oh my god! What a coincidence!" He starts, and I melt in relief, thank fucking God. "I was just about to head to yours so we could study! I can give you a ride. You picking up our snacks?" He says. </p><p>I nod, maybe a little too ferociously. Neither of us are actors, but we can give it our best effort.</p><p>Matt shifts toward us. "I didn't know you guys talked." He says, then looks at me. "I didn't know you had plans." </p><p>I nod again, probably looking like an idiot, and plaster myself to Evan's back as he nods as well.</p><p>Matt shifts, jaw clenched. "Whatever. My boys were texting me anyways." He looks right at me. "Text me sometime." </p><p>He waits, staring at me, until I nod, then he's turning and gone. </p><p>I collapse, blowing out a massive breath. "Dude— fucking thank you." I say, as Evan turns.</p><p>He looks at me with raised brow. "That guy always gave me the heebie jeebies." A small pause as he shakes his head, "Can I buy you a snack and drive you home, hun?" </p><p>I stutter, "I—I, I have a boyfriend!" I squeak out, cautious. </p><p>His brows raise. "Me too? The fuck? Is it sharing stories time?" He says.</p><p>I exhale in relief, barking a laugh. "Sorry— sorry— just. Freaked still." I swallow my nerves. "If it wouldn't be too annoying, please. I can buy my own snacks though. Evan right?" I ask, then extend my hand.</p><p>He lifts his brows, taking the hand and shaking it. "Close. But no. It's Harvey." </p><p>Not close at all.</p><p>My mouth drops into a small 'o'. "I'm sorry—" I start, "I'm kinda stupid—" I say it like an admission. </p><p>Harvey laughs again, dropping my hand. "C'mon. Let's get you home. Poor girl."</p><p>He sticks to my side as I wander the store, getting the snacks I came for in the first place, and then some. I've decided being slightly stalked warrants some stress eating.</p><p>And...</p><p>And I'm angry at Clay, now.</p><p>That might warrant some stress eating too. </p><p>I gingerly plop myself into Harvey's front seat with my bounty of snacks, and pull out my phone. </p><p>"I'm gonna take a picture of you to put on my Snap story to dunk on my roommate. I called her to get me but she didn't answer." I say.</p><p>Harvey laughs, turning toward me with a cheeky smile. "So you're a petty bitch?" He asks.</p><p>I grin back, snapping the pic. "Yes. Absolutely." </p><p>I caption it, 'saved by a literal king. dont hmu if ur name is ellie. 😭🥰' and post it directly to my story. </p><p>I pocket my phone again, then sink into the seat. </p><p>"Thank you. Like thank you actually." I mumble out, the panic that's been constant in my chest starting to settle as Harvey starts the car. </p><p>"Anytime. I need directions, though." He says.</p><p>"Oh— I— duh." I say, then tell him my address. </p><p>He laughs. "No way, actually?" He asks. </p><p>My eyebrows lift. "Why would I lie about my address?" </p><p>He shrugs. "I dunno, you just got stalked, maybe? Maybe that would impact that?" </p><p>I purse my lips, fighting a laugh. "Fair." </p><p>"Anyways— I live like, right there. I'm in the complex like, across from that. Number neighbors." He says. </p><p>I perk up. "Oh? That's cool. I was worried you'd have to drive the totally opposite way and I'd feel like a dick. Now I'm guilt free. Drive faster, servant." I tease.</p><p>It gets a good laugh out of Harvey, which makes me feel better. We descend into that new-person awkward silence, but he's quick to break it. </p><p>"Why were you walking alone? Boyfriend couldn't be assed to walk with you?" He asks.</p><p>I puff out a sigh. "First, women should be allowed to walk to the gas station alone and be safe, second—" I take a heavy breath, just thinking about Clay. "He lives in Orlando." </p><p>I pout deciding to continue, "Third, he's too busy playing Minecraft to even answer my phone call. So I doubt he woulda walked me." I mumble. </p><p>Oops. Why am I such an emotional dumper—</p><p>Harvey laughs. "Oh my God. Literally why I'm out right now. Teddy was— my man— he's literally been doing a World of Warcraft raid for hours and I got so bored I dipped." </p><p>I let myself relax, laughing back. "Not fucking World of—" </p><p>Harvey interrupts. "You got something to say? Miss Minecraft?" I bite my cheek, fighting a smile. </p><p>I can't believe I've never talked to him before. He could easily be my friend. </p><p>I watch as we turn into our parking lot, I guess, and pull my phone out. Harvey parks, and I immediately push my phone at him. </p><p>"Give me your number, please. You are my friend now. I need to make you a cake for saving me from being assaulted in a 7/11." I say.</p><p>He takes the phone. "Well when you put it that way..." He says, and types the number in. </p><p>As he does, my phone lights up with a call. Clay's contact name glows up at Harvey's face, bright and clear. His brows lift into outer-fucking-space. </p><p>"Daddy—" He nearly shouts, then screams as I swipe the phone.</p><p>My face is completely flushed as I answer the call. </p><p>"So now you aren't busy—" I immediately bite out, realizing I'm very irritated. </p><p>"Who are you with?" Clay immediately asks. </p><p>My lip curls. "Why? You didn't seem to care thirty minutes a—" </p><p>Clay interrupts. "Who is that in the Snapchat story?" He asks.</p><p>Oh? He thinks he gets to be possessive right now? </p><p>I squint my eyes. "Harvey?" </p><p>"Yeah. Him. Who is he? Why are you with him?" Clay asks, sounding even more irritated.</p><p>I lift and check my nails, absurdly annoyed with the situation. "He's a friend. I guess." </p><p>"Are you alone with him? Like right now?" Clay asks.</p><p>I look over to Harvey, seeing him grimacing at his phone, poorly trying to mind his own business. </p><p>"Yeah. What about it?" I bite back. </p><p>Clay grunts, slowly starting to sound something closer and closer to pissed. "Maybe you should tell your boyfriend when you're about to hang out with a male friend? Alone? And post weird shit?"</p><p>I hum. Maybe he's right. But maybe, just maybe, he'd know the situation if he hadn't been a dick earlier. </p><p>"You know I have friends, Clay. I don't need your permission. You were literally my friend and a man for like— 15 years. You used to get pissed when my boyfriends acted how you're currently acting." I say back. </p><p>"Yeah?" Clay asks, and I know it isn't going to be good based on his tone of voice. "Well look how we turned out, huh? How long has it been since I fucked you? Less than—" </p><p>I pull the phone away from my face, blinking at it, startled. I don't like this Clay right now. </p><p>I speak, not knowing if he's done talking or even listening. "Call me back when you're done shitting your fucking diaper. You can leave a voicemail apology. I'll get to it." I say, then hang up, rolling my eyes. </p><p>Harvey laughs, probably at my last statement, as I pass the phone back to him so he can finish putting his number in. </p><p>"Boyfriend?" He asks. </p><p>I hum, nodding. "Yep. He's really happy with me right now, couldn't you tell?" </p><p>Harvey lifts his brows again, something like a question hidden in his eyes, finally passing my phone back. "Yeah. Seems that way." He says, a crinkle in the corner of his eye as he fights a smile.</p><p>I can't help that I laugh in return, feeling psychotic. What an insane night. All of this— for an Arizona, some peach rings, chips, and a bag of caramels. </p><p>"Maybe I should have been nicer." I say, through my laugh. "He has trust issues." Oops. I'm dumping again. </p><p>Still, Harvey laughs back. "Oh my God, every straight man says that. Like babe you don't understand— my girlfriend in high school ruined me." He says in a mocking voice. </p><p>I giggle for that. "No. His girlfriend literally cheated on him." I say, nearly hysterical.</p><p>"OOP—" Harvey shouts. "Okay so maybe you could've been nicer..." he says.</p><p>I slap at his arm, laughing. "No support from anyone. This house is a fucking nightmare." I tease. </p><p>The laughter dies off, and I huff, realizing we've just been sitting here in the parking lot. </p><p>"Welp," I start, hovering the door handle. "Thanks for saving my ass again, Harvard. We should hang out, for sure." I say.</p><p>He nods, and waves me off. </p><p>I go straight inside, and straight into my bedroom. I collapse into bed, wrapping myself in a blanket like a protective barrier. </p><p>Alone now, the real emotions start to hollow me out. What the fuck was that? There's a wobble in my lip that I can't control. I start to cry. Though, I can't decide if it's over the events that just transpired, or over Clay being a jackass. </p><p>Well. Nothing's perfect forever. </p><p>I feel my phone buzzing with another incoming call from Clay. I stare at his name on the screen, and turn my phone off.</p><p>I'm not dealing with that right now. I wrap up and go to sleep. </p><p>***</p><p>I wake up close to midnight, feeling sick, and head to the bathroom. My period again. Maybe that's why I threw such a big fit. I fix it, and flop back in bed.</p><p>I huff, turning my phone back on. </p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>4 New Messages<br/>3 Missed Calls<br/>1 Voicemail</p><p>I go for the voicemail first. It better be the fucking apology I wanted. </p><p>"Hey—" I hear Clay start, sounding breathless, small, and curl in on myself. "I'm sorry. That was— I'm stupid. Shouldn't have said any of that. Shouldn't have gotten jealous, either." There's a pause, where I hear his breath hitch, and mine hitches with him. "C'mon, just... text me when you can, yeah?" He finishes. </p><p>I pull the phone away from my face and turn into my pillows, shouting into them in frustration. I can't be angry at that.</p><p>I go straight to text him 'im home, sorry, can we talk?' then, I see his texts. </p><p>'are you fucking kidding me rn?'<br/>'im supposed to apologize for fucking what?'<br/>'that you're out doing god knows what because i couldnt spare you attention for less than an hour?????' 9:02 pm</p><p>Then:</p><p>'im sorry' 12:19 am</p><p>From a few minutes ago. </p><p>I could text him right now and likely get a response, seems like he's waiting for it. But... no. Not with those first few messages staring back at me. He can wait and think about what he did. </p><p>I turn my phone right back off and flop back down. I'm going right back to bed, we can both sleep on this one.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. wish u were here rn (plot, fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wake up feeling immediately heavy, exhausted. Yesterday was... a lot of shit I didn't need to happen.</p><p>Whatever. </p><p>I do my best to push it to the back of my mind. I need to actually focus. I have three papers and now— one day to do them. </p><p>I drag myself up and out of bed, railing my Arizona like it's breakfast and plopping down at my computer. There's a sticky note on my screen.</p><p>'thank u for peach ring mommy!' And a drawing of a cute little cat. </p><p>I guess Ellie slipped in and grabbed her candy at some point when I was passed out. I pull it off and slap it to my desk, still a little annoyed with her as well. I need to chew her out for not answering my call. </p><p>Either way, I turn my PC on, startled when I see it's 5am— though, I guess that adds up. I passed out at like, 9pm. I'm grateful for it in a way, maybe a quiet morning is what I need to push through this homework.</p><p>I stretch, body shivering with the effort, and settle in to start working. </p><p>***</p><p>I'm startled by my door opening, a freshly awoken bed-headed Ellie poking in. I suddenly realize that a lot of time has passed, and that I'm hunched up in my chair like a goblin.</p><p>I roll my shoulders, stretching, sitting up straight. </p><p>"Come in then." I say, and Ellie pushes the door open all the way, walking in like she owns the place and flopping over into my bed.</p><p>I spin in my chair, chewing my lip, glaring at her. </p><p>"What's this even mean?" Ellie asks, grinning, showing me my Snapchat story. So, she just saw it, then. </p><p>I lift my brows, about to put her in the dirt. </p><p>"Last night when I was walking I got stalked and nearly assaulted by a classmate." I say, deadpan, and the smile drops from her face. </p><p>Ellie sits all the way back up, suddenly serious. "Are you— what?" She asks.</p><p>I give a tight lipped smile. </p><p>"Yeah. I called you to come help me and you didn't pick up." I say.</p><p>Ellie's face twists and she goes to look at her phone. "I didnt—" she starts, navigating and seeing my missed calls. "—how did I— I'm so sorry." She says, and it sounds genuine.</p><p>I duck my head, tired of being angry. I shoot up and tackle hug her to the bed.</p><p>"It's fine. I'm fine." I mumble out, mashing my face into her shoulder, though I don't know if it's more for me or her. </p><p>"Fuck, man." She starts, wrapping me in a hug. "That's scary, that's some heavy shit." She finishes speaking with more heat, confidence.</p><p>"Who? I'm gonna kill him." She says.</p><p>I laugh where I'm buried. This is the protective energy I wanted, needed... expected. I whine, despite the fact that I'm still laughing.</p><p>"Some tool named Matt. He's in my discussion today." I say.</p><p>"The one going on right now?" Ellie asks back, privy.</p><p>"Yeah." I mumble back guiltily. </p><p>She pats my back. "That's unfair. You shouldn't have to go to that and feel unsafe. We'll figure something out." She says back to me.</p><p>It feels like part of a weight is lifted. I melt, liquifying. "Thanks." I mumble. "And the Snapchat is my other classmate. He ended up saving my ass last night. He lives like... across the parking lot. Lucky." </p><p>Ellie hums, considering. "No shit? Yeah. Lucky." She says back. </p><p>We stay wrapped up for a few moments more as Ellie soothes what hurt she's capable of soothing. But, it's not enough.</p><p>I feel guilty, stupid. I want Clay. I want him to make things better, say the right things, hold me through this. Distance is... hard. </p><p>I peel myself off Ellie and flop back into my desk chair. "I have a lot of papers to write." I mumble as an explanation, creating distance. </p><p>Ellie nods. "Chill if I just hang out in here? I'll be quiet." She says back.</p><p>That... sounds... actually so nice. "Yeah. Of course." I say back, relaxing and letting myself focus on my homework again, happy to be cared for. </p><p>Then, the pang of hurt, thinking about Clay.</p><p>Dumbass. What a dumbass. </p><p>***</p><p>It's decently late when I finish my papers, actually just in time. I submit at 11:58 pm with a 12:00 am deadline. I groan, stomach hurting, probably from the mix of emotional distress, cramps, and the small fact that I've eaten fuck all but candy and other junk food, pinned with Ellie in my room all day. </p><p>I can't believe I actually got so close to the deadline, I never do that shit.</p><p>Is it because Ellie and I took a four hour long break in the middle of the day to watch Tik Toks on her phone and nap? Perhaps. But that's what makes her a good friend. Probably my best friend. </p><p>I flop my ass back into bed, finally turning my phone back on again from last night. It's time to face this... problem.</p><p>Nerves swell in my stomach as my phone powers on and I see the notifications, texts, calls, and another voicemail. I chew my lip.</p><p>"Woah." Ellie says, shifting, still in my bed with her own laptop open to her notes for her to study. She's stuck with me literally all day. Her presence is comforting.</p><p>"What's all that about?" She asks, pushing a finger forward to tap the stack of notifications. </p><p>I puff, and blow out a stressed breath. </p><p>"We're in a bit of a tussle." I respond. </p><p>"Yeah? What about?" She asks.</p><p>I blink, slow, collecting myself. "Um. I called Clay last night too. I was— I was freaking out and wanted to hear his voice. I guess." I pause, feeling a swell of upset bubble in my core. "And uh— he blew me off. Then acted like a baby over the Snapchat story. So I'm ignoring him." </p><p>Ellie's brows go up, up, up. "He... blew you off? On arguably what could have been the worst night of your life?"</p><p>I nod, feeling small and defeated. "Yeah... I... yeah." Is what I manage to say in his defense. </p><p>I expect fire from Ellie, but what I get is a tighter hug. "I'm sorry." She says.</p><p>It's exactly what I need. </p><p>"I'm gonna fucking deck him." Oh, there it is.</p><p>I laugh, slapping at her. "No. I'm about to forgive him. He made a good apology. I'm just making him sweat. And I've been— busy." </p><p>Ellie sighs. "My fists are itching. But fine." She suddenly sits up and I whine, watching her hop out of my bed. "I'll give you some space so you can call him. It's cruel to leave him... scared in your dm's." </p><p>I nod, curling up on myself, cocooning in my blankets for emotional protection. </p><p>"I know." I say back. </p><p>Ellie nods again and leaves with her laptop, shutting my door behind her. I sigh, staring at my phone like it's burned me, and stand up, turning my light off. I feel better, more secure, hidden away.</p><p>I cradle my phone, not checking any of the messages Clay's sent, and hover the call on his contact.</p><p>I chicken out, plopping my phone right back down on the mattress. I take a steadying breath and lift it again, deciding to check the texts he sent. </p><p>'hello?'<br/>'im fucking sorry please just talk to me' 3:32 am</p><p>'i get it i fucked up but please baby just something to let me know were okay' 7:02 am</p><p>'i wishhg u were heebre rn' <br/>'i coudld mak it beteer' 10:48 pm</p><p>It makes me whimper. It's difficult to read. Unfortunately for me, my phone lights up with a call from Clay at the same time. I let myself go numb, and answer. I freeze, scared to put the phone next to my face. </p><p>I steel myself, and lift it, curling in on myself impossibly tight with the phone pressed to my ear. </p><p>"Hello?" Clay speaks first, quiet, low. </p><p>"Hi." I say back, just as quiet. "Um... sorry for ghosting. Had a rough night." I mumble.</p><p>"Wh'at happened?" Clay says, sounding... muddled. </p><p>I knit my brow. "You good?" I ask. </p><p>There's a moment of silence, then. "I'm crossed but I'm here. I'm here. I can— I'm alright." He says, voice slurred. </p><p>I laugh for that, relaxing somewhat. "Big baby got so sad he got faded?"</p><p>"Yeah." He says back, unabashed. "Thought I— fucked things up with my girl— my girl." </p><p>I hate that I smile. "You did. Bozo. I'm pissed at you. Jealous ass." I say back, teasing. </p><p>Clay whines over the speaker. "I'm sorry." He says. "I'm stupid." </p><p>I'm beaming now, relaxing into my bed, everything soothed just from hearing his voice. </p><p>"Say it ten more times and I'll for—" </p><p>"I'm stupid." Clay immediately mumbles out, repeated eleven times, close enough. </p><p>"Okay. I forgive you. But we need to talk tomorrow, sober." I say, smiling, feeling 100 times lighter. I decide maybe it's not the best idea to drop an 'i got harassed' bomb on a drunk and high possessive man.</p><p>"Good. I miss you." He breathes out.</p><p>I smirk. "It's been less than a day, Clay." </p><p>"No I mean— the week it's, it's been a week." He says back.</p><p>I blink. "You mean in real life? I'll see you literally next weekend big man." </p><p>"I know. Still I'm, I think about you all time." He says back. "Ev'n when I'm asleep... you're in my dreams."</p><p>Wow. His inhibitions must be... very lowered if he's just saying shit like that. My breath hitches, not sure what to say, what I could say.</p><p>There's a moment of silence where we just breathe with each other, then:</p><p>"I miss you." Clay says, again.</p><p>I smile. "I know. You just said that." </p><p>"Sorry— I'm," Clay starts, puffing out a sigh. "'m not sober." He says.</p><p>I fully laugh. "I know. I know that big man." I say, beaming. </p><p>There's another pause. </p><p>"I'm sorry. I miss you." Clay says again. </p><p>I feel my entire face flush, shaking my head. He's being so goofy. </p><p>"I'm gonna hang up if you say that one more fuckin' time." I tease.</p><p>I don't expect the immediate whimper, and the soft "Please stay." That comes out of him. </p><p>"Okay. Okay. I'm right here." I say back, soft. </p><p>"I miss you so much." Clay immediately says, then catches himself. "Shit— sorry." </p><p>I have to cover my face with both of my hands, embarrassed for me and him. I drag my hands down my face.</p><p>"Are you alone right now?" I ask, the second I've collected myself.</p><p>"Yes— yeah— yes ma'am." He says.</p><p>I laugh. "Okay. You want to Facetime? See me? Might help you miss me less." I phrase it like it's for him, but it's equally for me. I want to see him.</p><p>"Yeah? Really?" Clay asks, hopeful.</p><p>"Yeah." I mumble back. "I'm hanging up. I'll call you back." I say.</p><p>I hear a slurred "okay" before I hang up. I shoot up slapping on a lamp so that my face is illuminated in the dim, warm light, then call. </p><p>Clay answers almost instantly. Seeing him is like— surfacing for air. He looks probably as fucked up as he is, eyes hooded and red, hair messed, face flushed totally red. </p><p>He makes a noise, looking at me. </p><p>"Fucking breath-taking." Is all he says, then closes his eyes for a moment, steadying himself.</p><p>It makes my brain stutter to a stop, being talked about like that. Clay blinks his eyes back open, staring at me again, like he needed a break to be able to handle it.</p><p>It's funny, because I'm not particularly cute right now. I'm red-eyed, puffy, pouty, unshowered. I hide in my hoodie hood, pulling the strings tight.</p><p>"My girl." He mumbles. </p><p>All of that doesn't matter, because I'm his girl, I guess.</p><p>"Big man." I coo back, affectionate. I'm the sober one, though. "What're you gonna do turnt up at home all alone?" I ask, smiling again, feeling safe. </p><p>Clay blows out a breath, swinging up to his feet. "I was thinking, about games." He says, low, slow.</p><p>I smile. "Yeah? Were you? I find that hard to believe. You thinking right now." I tease.</p><p>Clay makes a noise back, face melting into a loopy grin. "No, no. I'm good right now. I could act sober if I wanted." He says.</p><p>I nod. "Uh huh. I believe you." I start, and Clay flips the camera.</p><p>"What game?" He asks, gliding the camera across all of his games, shakily. </p><p>I huff. "Maybe I could tell you if you held the phone still enough for me to see anything." I say.</p><p>Clay makes another noise of protest, then steadies himself. </p><p>I look over the titles, genuinely thinking about what might be fun to watch him fail at while inebriated like this. </p><p>"I think—" I try to start, but the camera immediately moves.</p><p>"Patches!" Clay coos out, colliding his phone with her as he scoops her up in his hold.</p><p>I huff, smiling like an idiot as he adjusts his phone again to show them both. Patches looks simultaneously happy and annoyed. I don't blame her, the look on my face is likely similar. But, Clay looks blissed out. </p><p>I wiggle against the mattress, tucking myself into my covers as much as I can, waiting for him to finish.</p><p>"Wait— which game?" Clay suddenly asks as he remembers.</p><p>I laugh, I say the first thing off the top of my head. "Guitar Hero." I'd love to see his ass try that right now. </p><p>"Ooh, which— which one." He says back, lowering Patches to the ground. "I have... the—"</p><p>"Three!" I chirp, quick. It was my favorite. Our favorite.</p><p>"Okay, okay, give me a— I'll set this up." Clay slurs, then props his phone up so I can watch him work.</p><p>I break into a grin big enough to hurt my cheeks as he grunts and crouches, threading through the cords as well as he can. </p><p>It's a few minutes of him blinking and churning around the single braincell he has left before he perks up, guitar controller slung over his shoulder.</p><p>I bite my lip, stifling a laugh as he beams, running his fingers along it, adjusting to the feeling. I assume he probably hasn't done this in years, I know I haven't. I honestly probably haven't since we were kids and would versus each other until 3 am on his ps2.</p><p>"Nostalgic— damn." Clay says, parroting what I'm thinking.  </p><p>I hear and watch him click the controller a few times, brow knit with focus, then hear the menu music. </p><p>"What song baby?" Clay asks.</p><p>"Angle it so I can see the screen, too." I say with a pout.</p><p>Clay blinks, mouth parted as he thinks for a minute. </p><p>"I'll just— I can just stream it to you on Discord, yeah? Set up a— facecam and shit." He mumbles. </p><p>I lift my brows. "You think you can do that?" I ask, worried if he'll be able to figure it out like this.</p><p>Clay blows a breath. "For sure I'm so smart I'm—" He says, and immediately trips over a cord, nearly falling to the ground, barely catching himself on his coffee table.</p><p>I immediately break. "Yeah?" I ask, laughter bright. </p><p>Clay's face is flushed absolutely red as he grumbles and gets back up. I realize my phone is kind of small for this, anyways, briefly wishing I had my laptop. Suddenly I remember my old ass iPad and I'm up too, getting into my closet to dig for it. </p><p>I find it, holding it up like a prize and plug it it, clambering back into bed. I focus on setting up my Discord on it, listening to grunts and hums of a half-functioning Clay as he tries to figure out how to stream to me.</p><p>Just as I finish the set up, Clay claps his hands together.</p><p>"I fucking got it!" He exclaims, and I coo. He's so cute.</p><p>"Okay— it's— yeah it's. I'm streaming it in a private server with just— its just us." He says. </p><p>I go to check, and he's right. He actually did it. </p><p>"Is it good, did I get it?" Clay asks.</p><p>I nod, grinning. "You did. It looks perfect. I'm impressed." I say.</p><p>I then hang up on him with my phone, and hop on call. He can't see me like this, but it's whatever, he probably won't spend much time with his eyes on me while he does this, anyways.</p><p>"Okay— okay baby— you see this right?" Clay asks, excitedly tapping around.</p><p>I nod again, then remember he can't see me. "Yeah! Can you hear me?" I ask back.</p><p>Clay bites his lip, nodding. "Yeah you're good." He says back. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. What song baby— what song?" He asks, slurred, excited.</p><p>I hum, chewing my lip. "Scroll, scroll, scroll— AHT! Up one." I direct him.</p><p>Clay lands on the song I want. "Miss Murder by AFI?" He asks.</p><p>"Yessir!" I chirp back immediately. "I'm reminding you I'm dangerous. I'm Miss Murder." </p><p>Clay laughs for that. "Sure. Alright." He says, then locks in the song. </p><p>I watch in disbelief as he taps the difficulty to expert and locks in. "I can do it on expert." He says, all confidence. </p><p>I immediately set up a screen record, knowing this is going to be good. </p><p>"Yeah big man? Expert?" I ask, biting my lip, holding back a cackle. </p><p>"Yeah. Shit's gonna be E Z." He says, adjusting his hands to the controller at it starts. </p><p>I watch, heart thumping in excitement as the song starts. Clay misses the first fucking note. I nearly scream.</p><p>"Fuck—" He says, fumbling, brow drawing tight in focus. </p><p>I nearly lose myself laughing as he continues, using all of his focus to land maybe two notes before the song stops and counts as a failure. He lasted less than 30 seconds.</p><p>"You— did— so— good— hhhhhhh" I sputter out between gasped laughs, wheezing. "E— Z— Clap—" I continue, losing my mind. </p><p>Clay backs out of the menu in silence, selecting the same song, and locking in normal. </p><p>"Oh my God— this song? What! My first time trying it out—" He says, looking coy, and I fold again, laughing hard enough I choke on my spit. </p><p>I lift my palm to my eyes, wiping tears, and stop the recording. He's doing fine this time, on this difficulty. Still barking out laughs, I go to straight to send the video to George and Sapnap, needing them to witness what I just witnessed. </p><p>'1 Attachment'<br/>'new WR?' <br/>'big man is fried rn' 12:37 am</p><p>I go back to watching Clay, seeing the proud smile spread his face as he actually succeeds this time. He gets into it too, bending his knees, moving with it, performing for me. </p><p>My chest warms, and I split into a soft smile. Things won't always be perfect. Things can't always be perfect. But, when this is how it can be, it'll always be worth it.</p><p>I am so in love with this man. Irrevocably so. </p><p>I smile, blinking back a different type of tears, palming my eyes again, a small hysterical laugh bubbling out of my throat as Clay drops to his knees and pretends to shred with the song, missing an absurd amount of notes for the performance. </p><p>That's my mans. </p><p>He finishes the song, barely a success, and I cheer for him, audibly. "WOO! You're CRACKED baby!" I hoot.</p><p>Clay rises back up to his feet and bows. "Thank you, thank you, autographs after the show— please." He slurs out, a bright smile curling his face.</p><p>I refocus and check my Discord messages, and see George and Sapnap going absolutely feral. </p><p>George<br/>'WHAT'<br/>'INVITE US'<br/>'PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE' 12:38 am</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'I GOTTA GET IN ON THIS'<br/>'ADD US TO THE CALL'<br/>'PLEASE'<br/>'PLEASE' 12:38 am</p><p>George<br/>'ADD US TO THE CALL CMON'<br/>'I CANT LAST'<br/>'I CANT LAST' 12:39 am</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'I CANT LAST 😩'<br/>'I CANT LAST 😩'<br/>'HONEY'<br/>'ADD SAPDADDY TO CALL NOW'<br/>'I CANNOT LAST 😩' 12:39 am</p><p>I snort back my laughter. </p><p>"The boys want in, you gonna let them?" I ask Clay.</p><p>He grunts, looking confused. "How'd they know? What?" He asks back.</p><p>I stifle a laugh. "I sent them a video of your world record setting Miss Murder on Expert run."</p><p>Clay makes a noise of protest. "No— you recorded that?!" He half shouts.</p><p>I burst into laughter. "Yes sir!" I chirp back.</p><p>Clay groans, but stays split into a grin, walking toward his laptop, clicking around. Suddenly, there's two chimes, and the call bursts with volume as Sap and George join the call.</p><p>"Yo!" Clay says as they both start shouting. </p><p>"THROUGH THE FIRE AND FLAMES NEXT—" Sapnap shouts out.</p><p>"ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE PLEASE, FUCK YOU SAPNAP—" George yells simultaneously. </p><p>Clay's brows lift. "Baby, s'up to you. Which one?" He asks.</p><p>I bite my lip, flush with power as the call goes quiet, thinking. </p><p>"Pick mine..." Sapnap whispers out.</p><p>I roll my eyes. "Rock You Like A Hurricane, please and thank you, Florida man." I say, it's petty.</p><p>Sap immediately makes noises of protest while George giggles giddily. </p><p>"I have a bond with Mrs. Dream you'll never have, Nick." George says, and I choke on my laugh.</p><p>Clay laughs too, navigating to the song. He goes for hard this time. </p><p>"Fuck you guys. I'm gonna shmoke so Dream isn't the only one litty." Sapnap mumbles out. </p><p>I watch Clay, ignoring the boys, excited to watch his performance this time, wondering if he'll be as goofy, or more with a bigger audience. </p><p>Clay starts off well, hitting notes while George and Sapnap cheer, then the chorus hits— And he sings along with it, rolling his hips, fully performing.</p><p>My mouth literally drops open, George and Sapnap screeching along with him. I'm shocked into silence for the rest of the song, just enjoying staring as Clay loses himself and his boys hype him up. </p><p>The second it's over, I speak my truth. </p><p>"I'm fucking drooling right now, and I don't mean my mouth." I say.</p><p>I watch Clay's mouth part in surprise, face going a deep red. Sapnap starts coughing, choking on whatever he was breathing in. George just hums.</p><p>"Me too. Daddy— I can't last." George moans out, and it's like a spell is broken, everyone back to laughter.</p><p>We do Sapnap's song next, on hard, though it doesn't go nearly as smooth. Clay fails and has to drop difficulty. He gets relentlessly teased for it.</p><p>We keep this up, late into the night, much, much later than necessary. I laugh and sing along with the music until my throat is raw, and my face hurts from smiling. Until I can't keep my eyes open.</p><p>Until I fall asleep still on the call.</p><p>***</p><p>I wake up, throat and face sore, startled. I sit up, peeling my face from where it was mashed to the screen of my iPad, smacking my lips. </p><p>I make a few confused noises, hearing tapping and typing from the speaker. I go to the check the time, and see I'm still in a call with Clay, George, and Nick.  Though, there's no more stream. </p><p>I furrow my brow. It's 6 am. The last thing I remember is Clay trying Miss Murder on expert again around 3 am. I guess I passed the fuck out. </p><p>"H'llo?" I mumble out, confused, wondering if they still haven't slept or what.</p><p>"Baby's awake." George coo's. </p><p>"Have y'all slept?" I ask back, voice soft, small. </p><p>"No."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Nope."</p><p>They all respond.</p><p>I furrow my brow. "You could have kicked me so you could keep being loud." I mumble, feeling guilty.</p><p>Sapnap immediately gets giggly. "And miss out on everything you had to say— no shot." He says.</p><p>I part my lips in surprise.</p><p>"Hey." Clay interjects, voice a million times steadier, clearer than before. "Behave." He says back.</p><p>"Did I say something? I was asleep, right?" I ask back, confused.</p><p>There's a hum from George. "You sleep talk just like your man." He says. </p><p>I lift my brows in surprise. "I do?" I start, "What'd I say?" I ask, curious, as Clay makes a noise of protest. </p><p>Another hum from George, then, "I love you, Clay." He sighs out. </p><p>I feel my face immediately heat, flustering in on myself. Still, I laugh. "Is that me saying it or you, George?" I ask, teasing.</p><p>"Oh, both." Sapnap interjects. "Me too. I love you, Clay." He says as well, breathy.</p><p>There's a rumbled laugh from Clay. "Fuck off." He says, then pauses, still chuckling. "Love you, too dumbasses." He says around his laugh.</p><p>I smile, counting that as mine, but Clay comes back in, voice lower, softer. "And I love you, too." He says. There's no name, no indicator, but I know it's mine.</p><p>I duck my head under my blanket, overwhelmed, melting. There's a... moment of silence.</p><p>"Allllllright— that's my cue to leave— bye." George says, and immediately disconnects before I can speak.</p><p>I go to the chat and type 'bye bye gorg'. </p><p>Sapnap laughs, "Uhh— yeah. Me too. Have fun e-kissing." He says and disconnects as well.</p><p>I go to the chat and type 'bye bye sacknack'. </p><p>So, it's just me and Clay again. I make a small pleased noise. "Sorry I fell asleep on you." I mumble out, starting. "How do you feel?" I probe.</p><p>Clay hums in return. "It's all good. I feel pretty much sober. Tired."</p><p>I pause, working my courage. Sober. I want this talk sooner rather than later. "I'm gonna call you on Facetime." I say, hanging up before he can react and calling him back. </p><p>Clay answers quick, brow knit in concern. </p><p>I don't let him speak. "So. I need—" I start, shuddering through an inhale, curling in on myself. "I need to tell you something, okay? I need you to promise to stay calm." I say.</p><p>I watch Clay's face completely set into something like a defense mechanism. "Okay." He says, and that's it. </p><p>I swallow my nerves. "You— do you remember the creep that sent me that dick pic?" I start.</p><p>Clay nods, no emotion. </p><p>"Um— so..." I start, sputtering, "Turns out he's like— he's—" I take a shuddered inhale, overwhelmed. "I went for a walk alone and he grabbed me and he wouldn't fucking let me go and I—" I start rambling, pausing to whine.</p><p>Clay's expression breaks as he leans forward, looking something close to violence. </p><p>"I was— I was really scared and I got to 7/11 and he kept following me and grabbing me and I hid in the bathroom and called Ellie and she d-didn't pick up and then I... I..." I pause, tears welling in my eyes, "Then I called you." I say, quieter, like an admission. </p><p>Clay's jaw clenches, both hands going up to drag down his face as he catches on, brows knit.</p><p>"I mean, I tried. You got— I interrupted your recording I think—"</p><p>Clay lets out a desperate noise. "Baby— I'm— I'm so fucking sorry. I'm the biggest dumbfuck I—"</p><p>I interrupt. "It's okay. I'm okay." I say, taking a steadying breath for myself. </p><p>There's a pause, where Clay just gives me my time to breathe.</p><p>"So um—" I start again, the second I'm able. "I got lucky. My classmate uh— he was there. Harvey. The guy on my Snap story." I look at Clay, seeing the way his eyes briefly squint. "He's dating a man. By the way. You fucking clown." I mumble out. </p><p>Clay immediately ducks his head, going red, looking sheepish. </p><p>"Yeah." I start, rolling my eyes, then relax again. "Yeah, um, he rescued me. Got me home. But I'm still kind of— shook." I admit.</p><p>"Is there anything I can do?" Clay asks, soft.</p><p>It surprises me, no anger. "Yeah. In the future, please just— give me a fucking chance to speak." I chastise.</p><p>Clay goes tight lipped. "Yes ma'am." There's a pause before he continues. "Baby, I can't— I literally cannot apologize enough for not being there when you— you fucking needed me." He says, sounding breathy, vulnerable. </p><p>"It's okay." I mumble back, hoping to absolve some of his conscience. </p><p>There's one more tick of silence, then. "I ever see this mother fucker, he might accidentally break his jaw on my hand." Clay grumbles out.</p><p>I shouldn't, but I split into a smile. "Behave." I mumble out, half-hearted. There's no way I would stop him. </p><p>"I know. I know." Clay mumbles. "Im just saying." He says, and tilts his head back. "It's on sight." </p><p>I laugh again, shaking my head. "Okay. That was all." </p><p>Clay hums, nodding. "Understandable why you wanted to kill me. God I was such a dick." He says, blinking.</p><p>I coo. "Yeah. But you're my dick."</p><p>He starts laughing, low and warm. "Sounds so bad baby— c'mon." </p><p>I bite my lip. "I mean. That too..." I hesitate before speaking again. "Make it up to me by wearing a maid costume and cat ears." I say.</p><p>"Pushy, pushy." Clay chastises.</p><p>I purse my lips. "Maid outfit. Cat ears." I say.</p><p>"What was that?" Clay teases, "Didn't quite catch it."</p><p>"Maid outfit. Cat ears." I say again, raised voice. </p><p>"Okay. Thanks. Got it." He says again. </p><p>I laugh at the stupidity of the interaction, rolling over to flip my lamp off and wrap up in my blanket. I giggle to myself, hiding completely.</p><p>"G'nite baby." Clay says, and I smile as I pass out again, him still on call.</p><p>***</p><p>It's Monday when there's a knock on the door I don't expect. I literally just got home from class, and I know it isn't Ellie. </p><p>I lift to look out the peephole, seeing a package in front of the door. I open it, assuming it's Ellie's, but see my name on it, bright and clear.</p><p>I frown, hauling it inside. I grab a knife to open it, kneeling on the floor with a stitched brow, beyond confused. </p><p>Realization sets in as I unpack the box. A smile splits my face as I catalogue the contents. Two maid outfits of varying size. Two sets of cat ears. A collar with a bell, pepper spray, and a fucking pocket knife.</p><p>There's a little note at the bottom. </p><p>'see you friday, stay safe, also ill wear it for 10 mins just because i deserve the punishment. dont get ur hopes up. it's not my costume for Halloween'</p><p>I split into a smile, face warming, shaking my head.</p><p>Dumbass. My dumbass.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. dumb sh!t (halloween pt. 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daddy Dream<br/>1 New Message<br/>'daddy long dick just landed in your parking lot baby what's good? 😈'  4:04 pm</p><p>I make a noise of disgust as I read the message, despite the way my face splits into a smile. It's the day before Halloween, Friday, but I'm a college student so we'll be celebrating all weekend.</p><p>That being said: yes I'm already in the maid costume Clay sent, with the cat ears, with the thigh highs, sitting on my couch, waiting. What about it?</p><p>I smile, giddy, rocking to my feet. I grab the extra set of cat ears and dart to the front door, hoping to catch Clay before he even gets inside. </p><p>I swing my front door open and poke out, startling when I see he's already standing in the common hallway. His face goes lax in surprise when he sees me, for just a second, then his eyebrows climb as his eyes dart up and down the get-up.</p><p>I smile as he immediately shifts his bag onto his shoulder and strides forward making grabby hands. I giggle, running right for him, about to climb this fucker like a tree. </p><p>Clay grunts, then laughs as I fling myself into his arms, but he catches me, lifting me with a hup. The second it's within reach, I put the cat ears on his head, grinning like a maniac.</p><p>I plant both hands on his face, coo'ing. "My handsome little catboy pog champ—" </p><p>Clay snorts a laugh, tightening one arm around my waist to hold me in place, the other acting as a guide to push my front door back open and lead us in.</p><p>I squeeze him with my thighs, getting a lot more demanding with my hands, pushing on his face. He smiles, letting me take the control, tilting his head back with my movement.</p><p>I stare down at his face, biting my lip, everything feeling warm, happy, giddy.</p><p>"Hi there, big boy." I say, barely not laughing.</p><p>I watch Clay's face briefly scrunch in distaste before he speaks. "It's been thirty seconds and I haven't been kissed yet? What the fuck?" He asks, coy. </p><p>I lean in, close enough to share breath, watching as his eyes flutter shut. He tilts, lining up so our lips can slot together. I dodge the kiss, moving across his cheek, brushing with my lips, until I get to his ear.</p><p>"I think I left your kiss in my bed." I say, breathy, then bite his ear.</p><p>"Oh, come on—" He says, low, chuckling, tightening his arm.</p><p>Suddenly, we're moving toward my room. I bite my lip, smiling like a maniac. The second we're in my room, Clay drops his bag, then we tip over onto my bed, him climbing on top of me as I wiggle my hips. </p><p>Clay pulls back, shaking his head, gaze hot. I fluster for just a moment, lifting my hips to adjust under him, grinding right into his lap.</p><p>There's a flash of a smile on Clay's face before he's on me, fast, pressing our mouths together and rolling his hips against me. Both of my hands thread into his hair and pull as my entire body arches into him, pressing us flush, moan already in my throat.</p><p>The kiss goes different that expected. It starts hot, heavy, forceful, but softens. </p><p>Oh. I guess we both just want a minute. </p><p>Clay pulls back, puffing a quick breath, then relaxes, pinning me with his full weight, pressing back in for an absurdly slow kiss, our tongues dragging together. </p><p>My hands loosen in Clay's hair, a single one dipping to the back of his neck to rub soothing circles. I melt under him, everything feeling safe and warm, blanketed by his body. </p><p>He breaks the kiss first, dropping his head to bury his face in my neck. </p><p>"I missed you." He mumbles against the skin there.</p><p>It makes me laugh, even as my face warms. I drop both hands to his shoulders, dragging them across the wiry muscle there. </p><p>"I know. You told me no less than five times." I say back, remembering last weekend when 'miss you' was his inebriated catchphrase. </p><p>Clay hums, hiding his face in the bend of my shoulder, nipping at my neck. "I sowwy." He says.</p><p>I fully laugh for that, slapping at his shoulders. I expect the energy to shift, but it doesn't. There's something calm, soft, grounding about the way we're holding each other.</p><p>I sigh, relaxing, and turn to bury my face in Clay's hair. </p><p>"...smell nice." I mumble back to him, letting myself go soft, dragging in a massive inhale. </p><p>Clay lifts up finally, pulling back to make eye-contact with me. "Yeah? I put on co-log-nee. You like that?" </p><p>I lower my lashes, splitting into a smile. "When he wears cat-ears and cologne—" I interrupt with a moan, rolling my eyes back in my head and making an o-face. </p><p>"Fuck off." Clay grumbles, but laughs, coming back down for the kiss.</p><p>This kiss quickly takes the expected energy. Soft for less than a second, until we're both pressing into it, into each other. I nip at his lip, and he grunts, lifting his hips to readjust and line up to grind between my legs. I spread for it, moaning right into his mouth as I feel the contact. </p><p>"Fuck—" Clay pulls back to sigh out himself, holding steady as he rolls his hips against me, getting friction. </p><p>Suddenly, theres a hand on my thigh, sliding up my dress. "Your roommate here?" Clay asks. </p><p>I curl into a knowing smile. I bite my lip. "She will be soon. So channel some speed, Sonic." I say. Clay immediately rolls his eyes before he goes serious again.</p><p>There's a moment of hesitation in Clay's face as he drags his tongue along his lower lip, looking back at my door over his shoulder.</p><p>"I should lock—" Clay starts, interrupted with a moan as I roll my hips again, grinding into his lap. He lets out a shuddered exhale, turning back to look down at me and my smug expression.</p><p>"Yeah?" Clay asks, chastising, the second he can. Still, his hand closes the distance up my skirt, circling behind me so he grab a handful of ass, door forgotten.</p><p>I roll my hips again, like a response.</p><p>"Yeah?" He repeats, leaning in until we share breath. </p><p>I arch, pressing our bodies flush, moaning as I grind into his lap and feel his cock heavy between my legs.</p><p>"Yeah?" He mumbles one more time before closing the distance, slotting our mouths back together. </p><p>I moan into Clay's mouth, swallowing around his tongue, everything feeling warm and soft. I let him roll against me, reacting with movement of my own. </p><p>I whine in protest when Clay pulls back, staring down at me. Both of his hands sit on my thighs, playing with the hem of my dress, staring. </p><p>"What?" I ask, flustering, wondering why we're not doing some more bump and grind instead of staring at each other.</p><p>Clay hums, expression dark, then sits up further. I open my mouth to protest, but before I can his hands lift behind him, dragging his shirt up and off by the collar.</p><p>My eyes drop, staring at the dusting of hair on his stomach, following it down with my eyes. I short-circuit.</p><p>"I'm tryna put your dick in my mouth and go brazy—" I say, exhaling.</p><p>Clay's face scrunches up, splitting into a grin. "Shut the fuck—" He starts, cut with a laugh. He shakes it off, just to shove my maid dress until it's up above my belly button.</p><p>My breath hitches, humor dying as Clay leans in, winks, and lands his mouth on my stomach. </p><p>My eyes flutter, mouth falling open in excitement as I drop my hands to thread them into his hair and hold on. "Trick or fuckin' treat—" I mumble out.</p><p>Clay laughs again where his face is pressed to my stomach. "Baby— please. I'm trying to apologize down here." He says, then bites my hip.</p><p>I lift almost instinctively, thighs falling apart. Now this is an apology I can get behind. I drag my hands through Clay's hair, nearly petting him. </p><p>"Good fucking boy." I sigh out.</p><p>Clay glares, but there's a flush that wasn't there before, visible on his cheeks. </p><p>He gets a lot more aggressive, pressing a hand forward to palm me over my panties, dragging his stubble along my thighs rough enough to leave beard burn, kissing as he goes. </p><p>I roll into it, sighing contentedly, a few small moans vibrating in my throat.</p><p>Clay's literally got the waistband of my panties between his teeth, pulling them down like that, when my door swings open.</p><p>I feel the snap of my waistband right back against my skin as he startles and turns to look. I cringe. </p><p>Ellie stands there, staring, mouth parted in surprise. Her eyes quickly flick from me, to my cat ears, to my dress, to Clay, to his bare back, to his cat ears, to the way he's planted his head between my legs, like he can hide there. </p><p>She raises her brows into outer space as the realization dawns. "Hey there, Clay." She says, sounding like she's barely not laughing. </p><p>"Hey." He says back, sheepish. I can feel how warm his face is on the skin of my stomach.</p><p>I start to break into a smile, carding my hands through Clay's hair again, hoping it's enough to somewhat soothe his embarrassment. </p><p>"Didn't hear you come in." I state, staring at Ellie.</p><p>She meets me for eye-contact that I hardly maintain. "I wonder why?" She starts, humored. "Maybe you were distracted? Maybe?" She teases.</p><p>I bite my lip, fully giggling. "Can't a bitch get her pussy ate without judgement in this fucking house?" I say. </p><p>Clay immediately groans, turning his face into my stomach. Ellie laughs. </p><p>"Yes. But not right now. My friends are almost here. Like 15 minutes. They're already in costume. Get your man out of your pussy and change— like— unless that's," She gestures to my get up, "Your costume and not some sex thing I wish I didn't know about." She says.</p><p>I smile. "It's a sex thing. So are the—" I start, and Ellie yelps, covering her ears and turning, slamming my door shut behind her. </p><p>I keep petting down Clay's hair to his neck, scraping with my nails. Even his neck is red right now. Poor guy. </p><p>"That was— embarrassing. You're so embarrassing." He mumbles out, keeping his mouth on my skin. </p><p>I laugh. "Your friends heard you cum inside of me— and my roommate finding you stuffed up my dress is embarrassing?"</p><p>Clay groans. "Both can be embarrassing." He bites out, finally pulling out of my dress with a parting kiss to my hip. </p><p>I pout as he gets all the way up, still making grabby hands. He shakes his head, glaring, shedding his pants so he can change. I stare. He's still half-hard. </p><p>I look at him, nearly naked, searching through his bag, still in the stupid fucking cat ears, and have a very good idea. </p><p>"Wait." I say, and he pauses his digging, looking at me with raised brows. </p><p>I sit all the way up for this. "Before we change— can you put on the matching maid outfit? Just really quick?" I ask. </p><p>Clay rolls his shoulders, immediately shaking his head. "I'm not wearing that around people I don't know—"</p><p>I raise my hands. "No, no, no— just put it on so we can take a picture together. Since I'm already in mine and everything." I explain. </p><p>Clay grimaces.</p><p>I pull out the pout. "Daddy please? I'll offer collateral? Anything you want." </p><p>Clay's jaw clenches, staring me down in silence for a long moment. "Just a quick picture? Just for you?" He asks.</p><p>I nod fervently. </p><p>His tenses his jaw again, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck, embarrassed.</p><p>"George or Nick lay eyes on that picture I get to face-fuck you." He says.</p><p>My brain stutters for a moment, feeling my face warm. "You can— you could just do that straight up anyways—" I sputter out before I can stop myself. Clay's brows lift, a predatory smile curling his mouth. "But, deal." I say, extending a hand. </p><p>"I'm not shaking your hand over me putting on a maid outfit sworn under the secrecy of face-fucking you. That's not a hand-shake situation." Clay says, then sticks his hand out. "Now gimme the dress." </p><p>I purse my lips, fair enough. I shoot up to standing, going to dig in my closet for where I put the other dress that was in his size. I find it, toss it to him, and turn around, giddy.</p><p>"Tell me when it's on. I wanna see it only once it's on." I say, pressing myself into a corner.</p><p>Clay laughs, but I hear the rustling of fabric that lets me know he's doing it. I feel my heart thump, beyond excited. I can't believe he's actually doing this for me. </p><p>"Fuckin'— it's on." Clay mumbles out after a moment. </p><p>I immediately spin, smile already plastered across my face before I've even seen it. My smile gets impossibly larger when I see it, eyes going wide, jaw dropping.</p><p>It looks flat out good. Clay looks... incredibly sheepish, red, arms folded across his chest. </p><p>Oh my God. </p><p>"Handsome—" I coo out.</p><p>Clay laughs again, shaking his head, but relaxes, lifting the skirt to curtsy. I don't expect it to effect me the way it does. The metaphorical LED lights in my head go red.</p><p>I look at Clay's face, making eye-contact, dragging my tongue along my lip, and step backwards toward the door. Maintaining that contact, I lock the door. </p><p>Clay's head tilts, brows quirking like a question. I raise a single finger to my lips, signaling him to be quiet, and stride right up to him. I plant a hand on his chest, pushing him toward the bed. He looks hesitant, but lets me, lowering himself to sitting on the edge of the mattress.</p><p>I immediately climb into Clay's lap, pressing up right next to his ear.</p><p>"Stay quiet." I mumble out, then drop a hand, palming his cock, leaning in to nip at his neck.</p><p>Clay almost immediately shivers, both hands lifting to my hips to support me. "Baby— we—" He starts, soft. </p><p>I lift my free hand, and cover Clay's mouth, staring him down. He stares right back. I lean in. </p><p>"When I uncover your mouth, you tell me yes or no." I say, breathy, as quiet as I can, then drop my hand. </p><p>Clay stays quiet, staring me down, brow knit in concentration as I continue palming at his lap.</p><p>"Yes." He mumbles out, finally.</p><p>I split into a grin, leaning forward to slot our mouths together, nipping at his lip before I pull back again.</p><p>"Then shut the fuck up." I whisper, moving my hand up his dress. God that's fun to think about. </p><p>I push my hand into the waistband of his boxers, pulling his cock out and exposing it. I turn just right, pressing my face into his neck at an angle where I can still see what I'm doing. </p><p>I tilt up, pressing a feather light kiss to Clay's throat as I wrap around his cock and start to pump, sat down on his thigh. His arm snakes around my waist, holding tight, the other moving to plant behind him so he can lean back and still support himself. </p><p>I keep one hand in Clay's hair, gently scraping with my nails. He's incredibly responsive under me, soft breaths, twitches, movements, and the way he rocks into my hand as I swipe my thumb across the head of his cock. </p><p>I smile, loving every second.</p><p>I lift my hand, and spit in it, then go right back in, rocking myself against Clay's thigh as I stroke him off. He keeps shivering, clenching his jaw and tightening his lips every time it seems like he might moan, doing his absolute best to stay quiet. </p><p>It doesn't take long before Clay's squeezing my back, small moans he can't stop escaping his from his throat as I keep my hand firm, consistent.</p><p>I have to shush him, leaning in to pepper what I hope to be soothing kisses along his jaw. </p><p>There's a whine, his hips lifting into my hand, his cock forming a single bead of precum to drool from the tip. Suddenly, Clay stuffs his own face into my neck, biting down on my shoulder to muffle himself as he rocks into my hand, holding my waist hard enough to hurt. </p><p>I can tell he's close.</p><p>"C'mon. Cum for me, daddy." I whisper, breathy, and Clay immediately whines again, nodding into my shoulder.</p><p>I can feel his thigh tense between mine, still rolling myself against it because it feels nice to do so. Suddenly, there's a full volume, guttural moan, Clay biting down too late, his cum striping out into my hand. </p><p>Clay's breaths are heavy, panted, his entire body shivering with effort to keep quiet as I continue to jerk his cock through the aftershocks of his orgasm. </p><p>"I'm gonna clean you up." I mumble, quiet, waiting for Clay to nod before moving. </p><p>I settle back, and hop off his lap, and wipe my hand on my skirt. I immediately drop to my knees, pushing forward with my mouth and take his softening cock into it, lathing my tongue to clean off the cum.</p><p>Clay whimpers, lifting a hand to cup my face, hips twitching with the movement. </p><p>The second I'm satisfied that Clay's clean I tuck him back into his boxers and get right back into his lap, kissing every exposed part of his neck. He continues to shiver, rocking against me, but he seems to have his sounds back under control. Though, I'm worried about the sound he made when he came. We might be busted for that one.</p><p>I scrape my teeth against his neck, deciding to latch on and suck a small claim before I finally hop off his lap again and strip. </p><p>Clay blinks, watching me, until he seems to catch on and rocks to his feet, dropping his maid dress off as well. I suddenly realize I actually have no clue what his costume is, and I know I didn't tell him mine. He's probably going to like it. I don't know who wouldn't. </p><p>It's a sexy bunny girl costume. I'm literally a whore, so, no shame in the cliche. This costume exists for one purpose and one purpose only: make Clay horny. Though, sometimes it seems like a good gust of wind could do that... me too, though.</p><p>I did literally just jerk him off because he curtsied.</p><p>My costume is made of a one piece false-corset sleeveless body suit with an attached bunny tail, fishnets, cufflinks, collar and bowtie, and, of course, bunny ears. </p><p>I'm occupied enough with making sure I've got everything put on properly that I don't notice Clay's costume until he's fully in it. I immediately burst into loud laughter as I see it, breaking the silence from our quickie. </p><p>Khaki button up. Khaki shorts. Brown boots. Cowboy hat with teeth on it. A plushie crocodile tossed over his shoulder. </p><p>"Clay—" I start, blinking in disbelief. "—please." I groan, splitting into a grin anyways.</p><p>"You like?" He asks, bouncing his shoulders.</p><p>I groan. "I don't think like is the right word." I mumble out to him. </p><p>"Yeah? Well I'm liking what I'm seeing on you." He says, striding forward to slap my ass.</p><p>I take offense. I lean in, and slap his back. He grunts in surprise, briefly losing focus. </p><p>"I'm just in love with these big booty bitches." I say, quiet, and lean forward to smack his ass again.</p><p>Clay dodges it this time, catching my wrist, brow pulled tight. "Stop it—" He chastises, a low laugh escaping him.</p><p>I keep giggling, trying to do it anyways. He stops me, collecting both wrists and holding them behind me. He spins me, pressing to my back, walking me toward the door. I keep being grabby, pawing for his lap with my restrained hands. </p><p>Suddenly, Clay's other hand makes a guest appearance, snapping to my neck under my jaw, forcing me to tilt my head back and look at him. </p><p>"Behave." He says, simply.</p><p>I've never wanted to misbehave more. </p><p>Still, I puff a sigh and surrender. We already pushed shit too far, and if I keep acting up I get the distinct feeling we're gonna get right back in that bed and not come out. </p><p>Poor Ellie. </p><p>"Fine." I grumble out, still pouting anyways for the fun of it, letting my hands relax.</p><p>Clay releases my wrists for that, pressing up completely flush to my back, one arm threaded around my waist possessively as we pop the lock and walk out to the living room together. </p><p>Ellie's sitting, alone, staring at us, shaking her head. Still, I almost piss myself when I see her costume. She's dressed as Guy Fieri. </p><p>"You should be ashamed of yourselves. That wasn't very flavor-town of you." She says, and I feel Clay duck his head into my shoulder, laughing.</p><p>I, however, blow her a kiss. </p><p>"You'd be stroking dick too if you got any, chef." I tease, hearing Clay immediately protest, exasperated with me. </p><p>Ellie mocks. "Cock is one of my favorite tastes, not only that, but balls smell amazing. Like, I cannot get it far enough down my throat to be satisfied— that's how you sound right now." </p><p>"I'm ONLY satisfied when I feel those intense, powerful, salty, hot pumps of cum down my throat." I quote back.</p><p>Ellie grimaces at me, still, I walk up to her. </p><p>"I want to fucking go home." Clay mumbles, still hiding in my neck. </p><p>Ellie and I both laugh for that.</p><p>Still, Clay sighs, and flops down on the couch, sinking into it. Lookin' mighty comfortable... I plop myself right into his lap, leaning in to kiss his neck.</p><p>Ellie glares. "Gross." She says, lip curled. </p><p>I break my kissing just to laugh at her, laying my head on Clay's shoulder, relaxing into his lap. </p><p>"Where's your friends?" I ask, then there's an immediate knock at the door. Timing. </p><p>"Outside!" Ellie chirps, springing to her feet. </p><p>I keep smiling, Feeling Clay shift under me, sinking into the couch even further, until he can hide himself in my shoulder, shying away. I lift a hand to his head, threading it into his hair and playing with it to ground him. He's probably still embarrassed, that on top of a bunch of new people.</p><p>Ellie swings the door open, her friends filing in, and my heart nearly stops. Clay reacts similarly, mouth dropping open where it's planted to my shoulder. </p><p>Two girls. One in a green dress with a white smile mask. One in a blue dress with goggles. One guy. Thrasher shirt and headband. </p><p>All holding foam Minecraft swords. </p><p>Son of a mother fucking—</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. i’m Dré (halloween pt. 2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Sit anywhere!" Ellie chirps, pointing at the couch where me and Clay are still wrapped up in each other, totally frozen. </p><p>"This is my roommate—" Ellie points at me, then pauses before saying my name, like she almost forgot it. </p><p>"—and this is her man Cl—"</p><p>"DRÉ!" I yelp as a knee-jerk reaction, shouting over her. "His name is Dré." I say, staring at Ellie with the burn of a thousand suns.</p><p>Her entire face scrunches up in confusion, mouth parting, likely to ask what the fuck I'm doing. </p><p>I shoot up before she can speak, grabbing her arm. "Oh my God Ellie! I need your help with something really quick—" I say, too loud, and drag her off.</p><p>Clay makes a noise of protest from where he's still sitting. I feel bad for abandoning him, but decide he can handle it, he's a big boy. I push Ellie into her room and close the door behind us. </p><p>"What the fuck?" Ellie asks, brow drawn, hands raised in an expression of disbelief. "Dré? What—" </p><p>I grimace. </p><p>"So like— I don't— how do I say this—" I start, floundering for my words. "Are you familiar with Twitch?" I settle for. </p><p>She purses her lips. "I mean... kinda. I've heard you use it. Sometimes the people I hang with talk about it." </p><p>I grimace, searching for the words. "So like, Clay's lowkey kinda famous." I eventually sputter out. </p><p>Ellie lifts her brows. "What? Like on Twitch?" She asks.</p><p>I nod, feeling sheepish. "He's arguably the biggest name in Minecraft speedrunning—" I start, and Ellie barks a laugh. </p><p>"Not Minecraft— wait. Why— what— why does this matter?" She asks, grinning at me.</p><p>I worry my lip. "Your friends are dressed up as him and his friends. The— green one. That's Clay, or, Dream I guess. The blue is his friend George, the dude with the accent you talked to. And the guy is dressed as Sapnap, um, he was the other guy on that call." I explain.</p><p>Ellie laughs for a minute, staring at me. But, I stay serious, and she slowly melts into serious as well. "You're not messing with me?" She asks.</p><p>I groan, shaking my head. "I fucking— I wish I was." I say.</p><p>Ellie flounders for a moment. "What— why. Okay. I guess." She starts, then purses her lips. "I was wondering— honestly! He drives that nice ass car, I just thought maybe he was a sugar daddy accountant or—" She continues and I yelp, slapping her shoulder. </p><p>"So... call him Dré. For now." I say, shifting nervously.</p><p>Ellie raises a hand in salute. "Scouts honor!" She chirps, then turns toward the door. "We left him alone out there." She says.</p><p>My breath hitches. "Yeah... we sure did." I say, then scramble to open the door.</p><p>I walk out, looking as casual as I can, hearing laughter from the living room. All three of Ellie's friends having squeezed onto the couch with Clay, the one dressed as Dream pressed into his side. </p><p>I barely don't laugh. Clay looks up at me wide eyed, raising his brows in an expression of disbelief. </p><p>I stride back out into the living room, releasing as casual of a laugh as I can. "Sorry! Needed help with my bra." I say, plopping back down in Clay's lap like a shield. </p><p>Ellie follows me out, looking somewhat stiff. "Wow— cool costumes! What are they of?" She immediately asks, and I grimace. </p><p>The girl dressed as Dream lights up. "It's this super cool streamer— he plays..." I tune it out, turning to look at Clay wide-eyed myself.</p><p>I lean into him, whispering as quietly I can. "Collect your bag, damn daddy." </p><p>Clay snorts, tightening his hand on my waist, glaring as hard at me as he physically can despite his smile. </p><p>The Dream girl finishes, and Ellie nods. "Wow. That's cool. I've never heard of that. Um, y'all ready for Monster House?" </p><p>Sapnap guy interjects. "Sis— you've never even heard of it?"</p><p>Ellie shakes her head.</p><p>"Pass me the controller— let's watch one really quick. It's so fucking funny, I promise." He says, extending a hand.</p><p>I literally feel like I'm having a stroke. I don't even want to know what Clay's ego is going to look like after this thorough jacking off.</p><p>I turn to look at Clay's face, seeing the smug smile and embarrassed flush. I shake my head at him, and he glances over, fighting a massive grin, before looking back.</p><p>I feel like I'm descending into insanity as 'if i pick up an item, this video ends... Minecraft' starts playing on our T.V. Clay's voice bright over the speaker. I have to close my eyes.</p><p>"Hey guys, it's Dream here..."</p><p>Thankfully it's loud enough Clay can let a laugh slip where he's buried in my shoulder. </p><p>Ellie shoots me an apologetic look as soon as she hears his voice. The final nail in the coffin. What I told her now very much confirmed.</p><p>The video continues, Clay's hands gripped impossibly tight to hold me in place as we sit and listen to his voice. I'm thanking God they picked the shortest one to show. </p><p>"You're jo—" He says in the video, cut to the gag music. Ellie's three friends laugh, as does Ellie, though, I don't think she's laughing at the video.</p><p>Clay audibly groans as the video finishes, and gets elbowed by the girl in the Dream costume. "What? You don't think that's funny!?" She asks.</p><p>Clay laughs, then speaks before thinking too much about it. "Nah, his other videos are better." He says.</p><p>The girl's eyebrows furrow. "Woah— dude. You have a really similar voice to him." </p><p>Clay you dumbfuck—</p><p>"Really? Hm, I don't hear it." He says back. </p><p>The girl fully tilts her head, face scrunched in confusion as she looks him over. "No I— dude you sound just like Dream. You even kinda look—"</p><p>Clay shrugs, squeezing me with his hands. "Nah. That's crazy." He says back.</p><p>I back him up. "Yeah I don't really hear it. Like there are similarities but, y'know." I say. </p><p>The girl looks like she's starting to doubt herself, though she's also looking at us like we're fucking crazy. </p><p>The George girl saves our asses, leaning in toward her. "Ally, stop harassing the crocodile hunter. Besides, Dream's name is Clay. Homeboy's named Dré or whatever." </p><p>Clay immediately wheezes a very telltale laugh before he can stop himself and hide himself back in my shoulder. A laugh that looks like it gets the George girl to doubt herself for a second as well before shaking it. </p><p>Ellie, thank God, tries to save us. "Well that was very enlightening—" She starts, but the Sapnap guy clicks 'Minecraft Speedrunner VS 3 Hunters' and we're right back in it. </p><p>I want... I would like... I want to perish. </p><p>For some reason Clay's doing better than I am, seemingly, at handling himself in this situation. Though, maybe it's making me feel weirder to hear him talking because I'm looking at him.</p><p>I need something to make it through this. </p><p>"Want a drink?" I ask Clay, privately. He nods and I'm up, off to get just that. </p><p>While in the kitchen I hear Ellie speak. "Wow, 36 minutes? That's like a third of a movie! Like... Monster House for example." She says, then chirps an awkward laugh. </p><p>I mix our drinks, taking a shot for myself as I pour the liquor. I hesitate, but take another shot before leaving the kitchen, holding it in my mouth. </p><p>I wander back into the living room, clinking two fat glasses of jack and coke, and plant myself right back into Clay's lap. He makes grabby hands for it, but I shake my head, lifting up to my knees, tapping his chin with mine.</p><p>He's confused for just a moment until I press my lips to his and dribble whiskey onto his lip. He gets it at that point, opening his mouth for me. I let the liquor go from mouth to his, then chase it with my tongue, momentarily forgetting there are strangers sitting next to us. </p><p>I start to tune them out. </p><p>"This is why I hate straggots—" Ellie chastises us and we immediately break apart. </p><p>Everyone laughs, including us, me lifting an arm to wipe the liquor from my lip as I settle back into Clay's lap, nursing my drink. I look up at his face, feeling flushed and embarrassed. He catches me, and winks, before lifting his drink and nursing it as well.</p><p>This is gonna be a long night.</p><p>We watch for a minute, before Ellie speaks. "I'm not gonna lie I have no fucking clue whats going on." She says, eyes locked to the screen, brow knit. </p><p>The Dream girl— Ally, apparently, starts to explain it. The things that make it impressive, the things that make it difficult. On screen, Clay clutches, and the Sapnap guy yelps.</p><p>"God— he's such a daddy!" He says, and Clay chokes on his drink.</p><p>"Eric—" George-girl chastises, slapping him with her sword.</p><p>"Jade—" Eric mocks back, slapping her with his.</p><p>My eyes go wide, a grin splitting my face. "Dream's so fucking smart, yeah. It's hot." I say back. </p><p>"Finally someone else who sees what I've been speaking and preaching and praying and saying—" Eric continues as Ally and Jade make noises of disgust.</p><p>Ellie looks... beyond lost. Different dimension lost. Still, she seems entertained, privy as to why what I'm saying is so goofy. </p><p>Clay sucks in a sharp breath, holding himself back from laughing. "Nah—" He starts, "I bet he fakes his shit. There's no way." He says, lips twitching. </p><p>I turn on him, biting my lip. "You're just jealous of him aren't you, Dré? You wish you could play like that—" I say.</p><p>Clay rolls his eyes for the performance. "No. I could beat him on a real game any day." He says.</p><p>"And what would that real game be?" Ally asks as she leans back into Jade, who wraps her arms around her.</p><p>Clay pauses before he speaks, looking incredibly smug. "Fortnite." </p><p>I have to close my eyes to keep from screaming in laughter. </p><p>Eric screams for me. "Okay daddy Dré! Bald." He says, making Clay laugh. Couldn't have said it better myself. Thank you, Eric.</p><p>Ally leans in, looking genuinely curious. "Anyways... you really think Dream fakes them?"</p><p>Clay hums. "Oh yeah, for sure. He seems like a dick. A no grip getting mother fucker. I bet I have more Reddit karma than—" he's cut off by more shouting.</p><p>I'm honestly a little embarrassed. Everyone thinks it's funny, but not for the reason it's actually funny. </p><p>I play my part. "Oh my God, daddy... of course! I bet you do. He's such a brainlet compared to your massive, throbbing IQ. I know he fakes those runs." </p><p>Clay can't hold back his laugh this time, slapping my ass as punishment. It makes me jump. </p><p>Ally grimaces at us. "Not the redditor with a daddy-kink thinking he's allowed to have opinions." </p><p>"Fuckin'... right. Kitten, log on Discord for me..." Jade says, also side-eyeing us. </p><p>He's successfully made Ellie's friends... kinda hate us. I can feel the bristling distaste coming off of them. At least the two girls. It's... fair though. We're acting like freaks. Still, it's enough that they no longer seem suspicious of Clay.</p><p>Ellie interrupts. "So how about that Monster House!" She chirps, and forcibly turns the Youtube video off. </p><p>"Sounds good to me!" I say back to her. She takes it as permission enough and gets up, flipping the lights off. The movie starts, and I get invested. Everyone stays relatively quiet, a spare joke here or there. </p><p>As the movie comes to a climax, I actually fucking cry, though, that might have something to do with the alcohol giving me the slightest of a buzz.</p><p>I bury in Clay's neck, wiping my tears there and nuzzling in, curling up in a ball. He holds me tighter, soothing me with small motions up and down my back, then presses a kiss to my forehead. Sap. </p><p>The movie finishes, and I pout. Ellie's up quick. </p><p>"Okay— it's late enough. Time for the real show." She says, standing.</p><p>I sit up for that, wiping my eyes. I've been waiting for this one. I hop out of Clay's lap.</p><p>"Wha—" Clay starts, but I ignore him, following Ellie to the kitchen. </p><p>We giggle, looking at each other, and load our arms up with liquor bottles, stomping back out to the living room. </p><p>"Drinking game!" I chirp. </p><p>"Bet!" Ellie tags on.</p><p>Clay sits up, shaking his head. We sprung this one on him before, during Spring break, but Ellie's new friends don't look like they're familiar.</p><p>"Counter clockwise, dare on the room as a whole. Accept by saying bet. Do the dare, everyone else drinks. No one accepts, darer drinks."</p><p>It's... just an easy way to get fucked up fast. </p><p>We drop all the liquor to the coffee table and I kneel on the floor. Everyone else follows us down to the floor, looking excited, pensive.</p><p>I feel a hand on my back, massive, steadying, warm, and nearly moan. Oops. I might be a little more ushy gushy than expected. </p><p>I turn to look at Clay as he keeps scooting in closer, oblivious to what his hand just did to me. I have to lean in, pressing my lips to his jaw. He startles for a moment, but holds me tighter, until I'm satisfied and settle with my head on his shoulder.</p><p>"I go first! My birthday is closest!" I say, excited.</p><p>"Yeah? When." Eric quips back.</p><p>"November 12th!" I say right back.</p><p>He pouts. "You beat me by a day..." </p><p>I grin, pleased with myself. "Okay— I'll start with something simple just as an example. Swap hats with me." </p><p>Clay leans in, already swiping my bunny ears. "Bet." He says, then plops his cowboy hat on me and the ears on himself.</p><p>I smile, bright. "Now, everyone else takes a drink!" </p><p>All three of them nod, seemingly understanding, nursing their way-too strong drinks. Ellie gives me a thumbs up. I turn toward Clay, and look up at his face. </p><p>"Your turn." </p><p>Clay hums, looking back down at me. "Swap hats with me." He says. </p><p>I bite my lip, laughing. "Bet." I say back, doing just that. </p><p>Ally protests. "That's so— boring. I feel like Dré should have to drink for that." Jade hums along in agreement. </p><p>Clay just shrugs and does it. I roll my eyes.</p><p>"Onto you, Allycat." Ellie says.</p><p>Ally grimaces. "Ew. Don't call me that." She pauses for a second, thinking, then: "Show toes." </p><p>Eric perks up immediately. "Bet." He slaps a bare foot onto our coffee table and I make a mental note to clean that later.</p><p>"Put it away—" Ellie says, laughing, slapping at his leg.</p><p>Clay and I make awkward eye-contact, two fish out of water, and take our drinks. The burn is nice, distracting, promising. I would like very much to get to the point just before drunk where everything is warm and loose and perfect. </p><p>Onto Jade. She barely thinks before grinning and speaking. "Shake some ass." </p><p>I nearly shoot up to occasion, but Eric is quicker. </p><p>"Music." Is all he says. </p><p>I giggle. "Dibs on DJ." I say, then immediately put on No Hands. </p><p>I don't expect the way Eric drops his ass like it's the Times Square ball drop. I purse my lips and whistle, low, taking my drink. </p><p>"Daddy chill—" Clay mumbles out, and I choke on my drink. </p><p>"Damn, you shit with that ass?" Ellie asks, and I choke again. </p><p>Eric grins as he sits back down and takes his turn. I end up being part of the group that drinks, again.</p><p>Finally, at the end of the rotation. Ellie. </p><p>"Give me a smoochie." She says, then puckers her lips, waiting. </p><p>Silence. Crickets. Breathing.</p><p>"What? No one?" Ellie says, pouting. </p><p>I laugh, pouting with her. "I got a man, otherwise I would." I say. </p><p>Ellie looks right at me. "Not even my wittle cheek?" She asks. </p><p>I shrug for that. "Okay. Bet." I say. </p><p>Clay squeezes me once, then I'm up. I dart over to Ellie, holding her face with both of my hands and smack wet kisses to both of her cheeks while she giggles.</p><p>Eric gags.</p><p>I sit down next to Clay, beaming. The next few rounds stay tame, until we get to a point where there's a considerable fuzz in our brains. That's... that's when things start to stray. </p><p>"Let me take a body shot off of you." Ally says, and Jade's up. </p><p>"Bet." She says, lifting her dress up to her ribs. </p><p>I immediately shift awkwardly, looking over at Clay who's gone wide-eyed. He turns in toward me, meeting my shocked gaze as that happens. </p><p>It's not the two girls tonguing each other on my coffee table for me, no. It's the fact that it's two girls dressed as Clay and George tonguing each other. </p><p>"This is no different from how Dream and George just act normally—" I say, teasing, staring right at Clay. </p><p>He smacks my ass as punishment, as he does. </p><p>"Yeah!" Jade chirps, agreeing to my joke in earnest. "That's why we chose them and put Eric on Sapnap. It's secretly a couple's costume." She says,</p><p>I feel like I'm losing my fucking mind. </p><p>"You're so right!" I say back, finally able to look at them now that Jade has put her dress back. "I actually have these two friends that love DreamNotFound and would go crazy for your costume. Can I get a pic?" I ask.</p><p>They agree, and pose for me. </p><p>It goes straight to George and Sap.</p><p>1 Attachment<br/>'george is a bottom confirmed???? 🤭' 10:05 pm</p><p>Once it gets back to Clay, he has games in mind. "I'm feeling inspired." He starts, "Let me take a body shot off—"</p><p>"No. Drink." I say, immediately shaking my head.</p><p>Clay pouts. "Babe—"</p><p>"Nope. No shot." I say, firm, laughing in his face.</p><p>Eric backs me up. "Lay down the fucking law." </p><p>I grin, staring Clay down. "Take your drink, bitch boy." I say.</p><p>I don't expect the way Clay's hand tightens on my back like a threat, his jaw briefly ticking. </p><p>"Oh, come on." He says, low, and I melt. </p><p>I see Ally's head snap toward Clay in the corner of my eye, a flash of recognition passing through the doubt we've seeded. </p><p>Before I can push further, Clay rolls his eyes and takes his drink. </p><p>We make it another round before the girls go crazy again. </p><p>It's Jade's turn. "Kiss me." Is all she says before Ally pounces her and they start mashing against each other.</p><p>I stare, jaw dropped open, absolutely fascinated. The way the Dream cosplayer pushes back the George cosplayer and—</p><p>I'm pulled from my focus by a squeeze on my hip and startle, seeing Clay is averting his eyes. Oh right, this is probably a little more awkward for him. I'll give him an out. I need an out anyways, I think I'm at the sweet spot of tipsy right before being totally loss-of-control drunk.</p><p>"Wow. Um— I sure am hungry. Cl— er— Dré, you wanna come to the gas station with me to get some snacks?" I say, aloud. </p><p>"Say less." Clay says, and shoots up to his feet, headed for the door.</p><p>I follow, waving Ellie goodbye. "Text me any snack requests. We'll be back!" I chirp, then mouth 'sorry' at her. </p><p>The silence as we exit my apartment and get to the sidewalk is thick. We bump shoulders, look at each other one more time, and it's all it takes to break. </p><p>"What— the— fuck?" I wheeze out as Clay folds, laughing hard enough he starts coughing. </p><p>"Top— top ten— Dream and— and George— gay moments—" Clay sputters out, just barely, through his wheezing, looping an arm around my waist to reel me in. "Number one— fucking— that—" </p><p>"Please—" I choke back through my laughter. "I thought I was going to fucking shit myself when you said Fortnite—" </p><p>Clay squeezes me impossibly tight, burying his head in my hair as he laughs hard enough to shake. "I thought— I almost—" He tries, but forfeits. </p><p>The second I'm collected enough to pull back I go right back in on it. </p><p>"God. I can't believe you have b-beef with Dream. Didn't know you hated him so much—" I say, barely forcing out the last word before I wheeze and start laughing again. </p><p>"Yeah— well. He fakes all of his runs so—" Clay follows, back to laughing with me. </p><p>I bite my lip, dabbing at my tears. "Yeah? Well I heard he let his girlfriend put him in a maid dress and whimpered while she jerked him— AH!" </p><p>I shout as Clay grunts, lifting me and swinging me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I slap at his back, yelping, still laughing.</p><p>"Let me down you jackass!" I yell out, then knock his hat to the ground. </p><p>Clay lowers me back to standing, though he rolls his eyes, and bends over to swipe up his hat. "Where the fuck are we even going?" He asks, between short laughs. </p><p>I bite my lip, grinning. "To get snacks at the 7/11 I got assaulted at, idiot." I say. </p><p>Clay's face goes lax in surprise, hand on the small of my back pulling me close. Oops, that might've been too far. </p><p>"I— yeah. Okay. Christ baby, what?" He asks, looking worried.</p><p>I shift in toward his chest, nervous. "Sorry. Bad humor coping mechanism."</p><p>Clay hums, lifting his second arm to wrap it around me, holding me impossibly tight. </p><p>"It's all good. I've got you." He says with a laugh that's soft and small as he kisses my forehead. </p><p>"I know." I mumble back. Even if it's brief, I know he does, with certainty. </p><p>I pull back after a minute and wrap my arm around his, holding his hand with both of mine as I walk at his side. Clay takes a protective positioning, just slightly behind me so that I can lead him.</p><p>It's nice to be out in public, seeing other people in costumes, breathing the night air, taking a second to collect ourselves from the insanity that just happened. I relax momentarily, letting the fuzz of alcohol fade in.</p><p>It doesn't last long.</p><p>I feel my heart start as we approach the 7/11, and grip down on Clay's arm impossibly tight, nausea building in my stomach. I didn't realize I would have this reaction. But, standing at the doors, panic takes over and I step back. </p><p>"I can't." I mumble, tugging Clay back with me.</p><p>"Can't what?" He asks, voice soft and attentive. </p><p>"I—" I start, feeling my heart rabbit, taking a few rapid steps back. "I can't go in— can I— please—" I take a sharp breath and Clay's on me immediately, wrapping me tight and shushing me, backing me away from the doors. </p><p>"I've got you. It's okay. I've got you." He mumbles.</p><p>I lift my hands, digging them into his shoulders, nodding, dragging in steadying, gasped breaths. I have to take the moment, his hands soothing up and down my back until it feels like I'm on ground again. </p><p>I let my head fall forward, taking a shuddered breath. "Shit. I didn't— realize. I'm kinda fucked up over this." I mumble. </p><p>Clay hugs me tighter, swaying me in his arms. "It's okay. Let's just go home, yeah? No snacks." He says. </p><p>I laugh, shaking my head. </p><p>"No. Just— just go in. I'll wait out here. I'll be fine." I mutter out, not too sure of it myself, but feeling overwhelmingly guilty. </p><p>Clay pulls back, cupping my face and holding it up, searching my expression. "You're sure?" He asks. </p><p>I nod into his palm, then lift to my tip-toes to press a quick peck to the corner of his lips. "Go. Be fast about it." I smile briefly. "I want to see the 7/11 speedrun world record, yeah?" I say, and he smiles back, nodding and stepping away.</p><p>I curl in on myself as he disappears into the store, pulling my phone out to scroll social media. I can do just this much. Waiting. </p><p>Well, I could. If that's all I had to do.</p><p>"Hey, Bunny." An increasingly too-familiar voice starts, and I see Matt.</p><p>My head swims, legs going numb. I take a shaky step back, but it's too late, there's a hand planted on my arm holding tight enough I yelp in pain. </p><p>"I've been looking for you. You haven't been coming to class, and you hardly leave home—" He says.</p><p>I whine. "Please let go—" I say, tremble starting in both of my hands. </p><p>To my surprise he does, but I'm not free yet. He keeps close to me, keeping me crowded against the wall of the 7/11, talking at me. </p><p>"This fucking outfit— wow— you really knew what you were doing." He says, leaning in close enough I can smell the alcohol on his breath. "I know it's for me. Why don't we stop playing this fucking game and—" </p><p>I tune his voice out, curling in on myself, feeling like the worst fucking person alive, too fucking stupid and helpless to take care of myself for five fucking seconds and—</p><p>The door to the store opens, Clay coming out, turning toward me, split into a stupid grin holding up an Arizona. Just looking at him makes it so I can breathe again. He's safety. I'm safe.</p><p>There's a snap second where he sees what's happening and the smile drops off his face, setting into something terrifyingly harsh. He strides up fast, silent, pushing an arm out to shove Matt back before pulling me into his chest.</p><p>He looks— pissed, violent, yet controlled. </p><p>"Hey man— not tonight." Is all he says, and I realize he doesn't realize, this isn't a random guy that just approached me. This is something more. This is the guy. </p><p>How do I communicate that without putting us in danger—</p><p>I feel the chill of the tea in his hand, remember the safeword, and use it.</p><p>"I don't want an Arizona." I say, breathy, heavy, heavy influence on the Arizona. </p><p>Clay pauses, brow knitting together as he seems to think about the implications. I meet his eyes, barely not crying, and see the click.</p><p>The violence and anger melts into total, complete, calm. Clay nods, letting me know he's got it. Got me. Then turns toward Matt, walking out of my arms.</p><p>"Hey man." Clay starts, extending a hand. "I'm Dré. What's your name?" He asks.</p><p>Matt looks at him like he's insane, then looks at me again, addressing me. "You can't avoid me forever baby." He says. </p><p>Clay adjusts, blocking me off from Matt's vision with his body. "Your name?" Clay asks again.</p><p>Matt glares at him, then spits. "What the fuck do you care? It's Ma—" </p><p>In a fraction of a second, Clay reels back and clocks him hard enough in the fucking jaw I hear a snap.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. aggravated (halloween pt. 3)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cw: blood, bloodplay</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Matt stumbles back immediately. Clay shakes his hand and follows, walking at him with confidence like he's the fucking terminator or some shit—</p><p>I'm completely frozen, watching in what feels like slow motion. I caused this. I didn't want this. I don't want Clay to get hurt.</p><p>It's weird in a way, that other people around and near the store haven't noticed what's happening quite yet. It feels like we're in a bubble. </p><p>Then, Matt shouts.</p><p>"What the fuck, man?" </p><p>A few people turn to look for that, watching just in time to witness Clay slam his fist directly into Matt's face. There's a scream from somewhere, commotion elsewhere, people noticing what's unfolding. </p><p>Matt stumbles back, lifting a hand to the blood pouring from his nose, then pulling it back and looking at it like a gesture of disbelief. </p><p>"Learn some fucking social cues." Clay spits out, then literally spits. "And leave her the fuck alone." </p><p>Do I moan? Yes. Do my thighs clench? Also yes. </p><p>Sadly, his up-streak doesn't last long. </p><p>Matt charges, and though Clay dodges the punch, he doesn't dodge the grapple. Suddenly they're backing up, fast. I step aside with a yelp as they slam into the wall right next to me. </p><p>Matt pays Clay back for his second punch, right into his face, giving him the exact same bloody nose. It's... hard to watch.</p><p>"When I'm done with you, I'm fucking your girlfriend." Matt starts, then punches again while Clay struggles. "I bet that whore screams nice—"</p><p>Something in Clay's expression briefly breaks through the calm facade. Shit. He's losing his mental.</p><p>I have to look away, breath feeling more and more labored, curling in on myself.</p><p>I notice a few things, a person recording, the manager of the gas station on the phone with likely the police, and a few gawkers.</p><p>I look back in time to see Clay knee Matt in the stomach as he simultaneously slams their foreheads together. It's successful in dazing Matt, but I watch him flinch as well. </p><p>He's not self-preserving anymore, he's fighting with intent.</p><p>Clay takes the opening to charge, knocking Matt to the ground and climbing on top of him. There's a rough minute struggle, Matt thrashing against Clay, slamming punches to his body while Clay plants his palm to Matt's likely broken nose and presses with his whole weight. </p><p>Finally, Clay reels back and punches Matt in the face, hard enough there's a wet crunch.</p><p>I hear sirens as Clay punches again.</p><p>He punches again. </p><p>And again.</p><p>Until the mother fucker is slept, knocked out, limp under him, everyone standing around too afraid to approach. </p><p>"Sit, bitch." Clay says, then spits blood in his face, pulling back, slowly rising up to standing. </p><p>I finally find the ability to walk, and run up, wrapping around Clay from behind, helping him lift.</p><p>"We have— we have— we have to fucking go—" I stutter out between breaths, seeing the flash of sirens down the street. </p><p>Clay grunts, leaning into me, obviously pretty badly beat himself. I take the lead, tugging him off toward— anywhere but here. </p><p>We stumble together, breath labored, heads low. I don't dare to speak, focusing my whole being into putting one foot in front of the other as Clay limps next to me, leaning against me. </p><p>I need— we need— </p><p>"HEY! STOP RIGHT THERE!" Shouts an authoritative voice, somewhat distant, but close enough it's likely for us.</p><p>Unspoken, we do not stop. We break apart and fucking run. For once, I'm thankful for the weekend night crowd, everywhere particularly busy because of Halloween. </p><p>We weave through people, attached only where our hands are tangled together. </p><p>It's easy to get lost in it, singularly focused, feeling nothing but the physical adrenaline, labored breaths, and quick steps.</p><p>I'm not sure how long we're running straight before I feel confident enough to slow, tugging Clay to slow with me. He immediately stops, limping up to a curb and sitting the fuck down, clenching his stomach. </p><p>"Shit." Clay groans out.</p><p>I swallow my nerves, crashing from the earlier adrenaline, darting my eyes around to check for cops one more time before I push on his shoulder.</p><p>Clay grunts, shifting back with my guidance, looking up at me. I finally see his face. </p><p>There's... there's quite a bit of blood, some streaming from his nose, some from a busted lip, some from a cut above his eye. Speaking of, that eye is puffy, already swelling shut.</p><p>I immediately whimper, dropping into his lap and latching on, burying my face into his neck so I can breathe.</p><p>Clay briefly grunts in pain, which makes me feel bad, but he quickly lifts his hands to my back, wrapping me tight in his arms. </p><p>"I'm sorry." I whimper out. "I'm fucking— I'm so sorry." I continue, snuffling into his neck. </p><p>Clay grunts one more time, shifting his legs to support me better. I keep moving, pressing everything of mine to everything of his, our heavy breaths moving our stomachs together. </p><p>"Are you okay?" Clay asks, and I start to laugh, hysterical, pulling back with tears in my eyes.</p><p>"Am I okay? Are you fucking—" I sit up, laughing, lifting my hands to cup his face, pressing a thumb to his busted lip, watching as he flinches. "You got beat to hell— and you wanna know if I'm okay?"</p><p>Clay groans, trying to shake my hands, but I keep pressing closer. </p><p>"I thought I was about to watch you get pummeled you—" I stop, whining, swallowing my words, leaning in to press his face into my chest, cradling his head. Blood be damned. "Christ Clay, that was so close." </p><p>He groans again, soothing his hands up my back to my shoulders. "Cut me a little slack. I play fuckin' Minecraft all day. I'm not a fighter." He mumbles.</p><p>I laugh, only more hysterical, pulling back to search his face, touching it everywhere like I need to double check he's still there.</p><p>"Could've fooled me! Terminator lookin' ass—" I squawk, high-pitched.</p><p>Clay splits into a smile for that, laughing whenever he isn't groaning. I can't help that I lean in, pressing my mouth to his, pushing my tongue out to lick the blood from his lip, noises desperate in my throat.</p><p>He makes a noise of surprise before he pushes into it, moving against my mouth with a demanding insistency. </p><p>There's something communicated in the kiss that we're both too stupid to say: I'm scared. I need you. I can't lose you. But, we can both feel it in the way we're moving, pushing into each other's mouths and trying to claim space.</p><p>I break the kiss to breathe, but Clay surges forward, chasing it, and I'm locked right back in. My hands curl in his hair, pulling, pushing, doing fucking everything they can to move with this kiss, teeth clicking together with the effort we're using to push into each other. </p><p>It's metallic, rough, a stupid decision. But, it's the only thing keeping me present right now. </p><p>We finally pull out of the kiss, but not out of each other's space, knocking our foreheads together, bumping noses, despite the way it must hurt for Clay. </p><p>There's only another moment of us grounding each other, breathing, before Clay speaks. "Can we— can we find a bathroom somewhere? All I can taste is— blood." He says, then leans to the side, spitting blood out onto the sidewalk.</p><p>It makes me whimper again, feeling like a baby. </p><p>I lift my hand to his nose, touches feather light. "Do you think it's broken?" I ask, voice small.</p><p>Clay hums, but shakes his head no. "I mean— it hurts. But I don't think so. I think it's just a busted vessel." He says.</p><p>I laugh again, dropping my trembling hands to his shoulders, feeling small, scared. I have to take another second to steady myself, looking up and around, realizing I have no clue where we are, other than the fact that it's residential. We should probably move, fast, before we get the cops called on us here, too.</p><p>I pull my phone out and look at the map. </p><p>"There's a... Walmart about a quarter mile that-a way." I say, pointing left, then looking at his face. "Could fix you up in the bathroom then we could grab an Uber home." I say, managing as much of a smile as I can.</p><p>Clay nods for that, looking a little woozy. </p><p>I hop out of his lap and up, then help him to stand. I have to plaster myself to his side, supporting him as we walk. </p><p>It takes... much longer than it should to get there. But that's totally fair given the circumstance. It's enough that we get there at all. </p><p>I briefly pray that the blood caking Clay's face will pass as a weird Halloween costume choice as I lead him to a family bathroom, and by the way we don't get stopped, it must, thank God.</p><p>I guide Clay to lean on the sink, grab a bundle of paper towels, wet them, and start to wipe the blood from his face. As I work, I feel my phone start buzzing.</p><p>I ignore it, but it keeps going, and keeps going, and keeps going. I huff, passing the towels to Clay and check it, seeing Ellie's calling. I knit my brow and answer.</p><p>"What?" I ask.</p><p>Ellie immediately screams. "DID CLAY GET IN A FUCKING FIGHT OUTSIDE 7/11?" </p><p>I purse my lips, looking up at Clay with a worried expression.</p><p>"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement." I mumble, careful. </p><p>"White male, approximately 6'4", 180lbs, medium build, khaki buttoned shirt, khaki shorts, brown boots, brown hat, wanted for aggravated assault. Possible female accomplice 5'—"</p><p>"Ellie." I interrupt. "I can neither confirm nor deny that statement." I say again.</p><p>Ellie 'ohs', then hangs up the call.</p><p>I huff, shaking my head, and put my phone away, looking back to see Clay looking over his lip in the mirror, blood mostly cleaned. </p><p>"I need to go buy you some new clothes, big man." I say, then walk up, burying my face in his back instead of doing that. </p><p>"Yeah? We in trouble?" Clay asks, knowing.</p><p>"Maybe." I mumble into his shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm— I'm so stupid. I could have just— I'm sorry." I say again.</p><p>Clay laughs, turning in my hold to wrap one arm around me and squeeze, before pressing a kiss to my forehead. "My fault too. I should've just stayed calm. Got you home. I acted emotionally instead of thinking." He says, like an admittance. </p><p>I sniffle where I'm buried. "No. You're a good man." I mumble, then knock my head against his chest. "Now gimme your wallet." I say.</p><p>Clay laughs again, fishing it out of his pocket and slapping it to my hand. </p><p>I steel myself, pulling back, taking a steadying breath. I just have to be quick. I make my mental list, and nervously comb the store. </p><p>As I pick my items I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, nervous, self-conscious, wanting to be done with this. I do it as quickly as I can, getting cotton balls, antibiotic, bandages, gauze, alcohol wipes, a new outfit for me, a new outfit for Clay, and, realizing I left my snacks, an Arizona and a fatass bag of mixed candy. </p><p>The shirt I got for Clay is... ridiculous. It's stupid to do but it steadies me, helps me feel... normal. Though, this is anything but. </p><p>As I check-out, I notice the time, 12:18am, and briefly laugh. It's officially Halloween. </p><p>I drag the bags back over to the bathroom and knock. Clay cracks the door, sees me, and opens it all the way for me to slip in. </p><p>I drop the bags, and lock the door, then start to strip. </p><p>Clay kicks off his boots, drops his hat on them, and pulls his shirt off at the same I drop my bodysuit. He pauses for a moment, looking at my chest, and I fluster. </p><p>"Eyes are up here—" I mumble, dropping my ears, cufflinks, and collar on top of his pile of clothes.</p><p>He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn't look up. </p><p>"They looked at me first." He says, then drops his shorts.</p><p>I huff, turning away from him, fighting a smile, and hook my hands into the waistband of the fishnets.</p><p>"Wait." Clay says.</p><p>I pause, turning to look at him over my shoulder. "What?" I ask.</p><p>"Can you— can you keep those?" He asks.</p><p>I lift my brows, then raise my hands in surrender, dropping to dig for the clothes I got for myself. Which— has now just been deduced to a massive black hoodie and $1 flip flops. I bought leggings to go with it, but I don't want to wear that over the fishnets. </p><p>I also put my hair up, watching Clay crouch to dig for the outfit I got him with a small smile. Hope he likes it. The first item he grabs is the massive bag of candy. He holds it up, staring at me. </p><p>"Yeah? Was this necessary?" He asks.</p><p>I smile, grabbing it out of his hand and tearing it open so I can grab a caramel. "Yes." I say back.</p><p>Clay glares, shaking his head, but leans forward, grabbing a sucker and popping it in his mouth before going back to looking for his clothes. </p><p>He finds the grey joggers first. He looks up at me, blinking, but doesn't say anything, standing up to put them on. Next, he slips on the knock off berks. Finally, he finds the shirt. I have to bite my lip to hide my smile.</p><p>Clay shakes it out, holding it in front of his face to read it, brow furrowed. I see the moment realization hits and he looks up to glare at me.</p><p>"I'd rather be playing Minecraft." Clay says, reading the shirt.</p><p>I fully laugh, covering my face with both hands.</p><p>"You're a fucking clown." He grumbles, but puts it on.</p><p>"Actually—" I start, then kneel, reaching into a bag and pulling out a clown nose. Clay looks at me like he's about to snap. </p><p>"I thought this could cover your fucked up nose." I say, barely, then pull out an eye-patch, "And this for your fucked up eye—" I say, laughing.</p><p>Clay sighs, then walks right at me. I yelp, turning, but he grabs me before I can dash, holding me to his chest. </p><p>"You think you're so fuckin' funny, huh?" He asks, low, but I can hear the humor in his voice. </p><p>I giggle. "Yes." </p><p>Clay squeezes me, and finally breaks into a laugh of his own, pressing his face to my neck.</p><p>"We're wanted by the cops and you're— you're making— Minecraft jokes." He says, wheezing as my lips twitch. "S'why I love you." He mumbles, pressing a single soft kiss to my neck before dropping me back to the ground.</p><p>It makes my heart thump, the words... unexpected.</p><p>I turn, watching Clay settle back against the sink, holding cotton, shaking his head and smiling. I get right up in his space.</p><p>"I got it." I say, soft, moving to swipe the cotton out of his hand.</p><p>Clay dodges me. "I can— I can stuff shit up my own nose." He says, laughing.</p><p>I immediately pout, moving fast to swipe it again, much more forceful. "You're always taking care of me. Let me take care of you." I say, firm, and Clay raises his hands in surrender, passing it off to me.</p><p>I lift to my tip toes, pressing his head to force him to tilt it back. I grimace as I pull the toilet paper he stuffed up his nose and replace it with cotton. Then I let him tilt his head back.</p><p>I immediately crouch, coming up with the whole bag of medical supplies and dropping it to the counter behind him. Clay smiles, shifting, leaning back, honestly relaxing. </p><p>"Yeah? You havin' fun big man?" I ask, taking an alcohol wipe and pressing it to the cut above his eye hard enough that he flinches. </p><p>Clay just hums, lifting one hand to rest on my waist, further parting his legs to give me space. I keep up what I'm doing, popping a bandaid on his brow. </p><p>I move onto his lip next, and accidentally wipe hard enough that I tear the cut back open. Clay takes a sharp breath, flinching again, and lifts his hand to press to the cut, pulling it back and seeing the blood on his fingers.</p><p>"Sorry." I say, sheepish, pausing for a moment. </p><p>Clay just shakes his head, giving me a reassuring smile, then quickly pops his fingers inside of his mouth alongside the sucker to clean them. </p><p>It's not... my fault that my breath hitches. But, Clay catches it, a single brow quirking. </p><p>"Yeah?" He asks. </p><p>I fluster. "Shut up." I mumble back, having trouble maintaining eye-contact. </p><p>Clay doesn't, though, and just stares me down until I'm brave enough to look up and face him back. The second I do, his hand is on my jaw, holding my face in place. </p><p>I watch as he lifts his fingers to the cut again, and swipes at the blood. He pauses for just a second, then squeezes my face, forcing my lips to part. He lifts the bloodied fingers to my lip, nearly pushing them in my mouth before pausing.</p><p>"Can I?" He asks.</p><p>It takes me a second to process, but the moment I do I nod, eyes fluttering.</p><p>Clay pulls into an immediate smirk, then pushes his fingers into my mouth, shallow. I hollow my cheeks, lathing my tongue, cleaning them up. He must like it, if the shuddered breath he takes means anything. </p><p>"That's my girl..." He says, quiet, then lowers his face until it's close enough to mine I can feel his breath.</p><p>I keep eye-contact the entire time, lifting a hand to curl around Clay's pinky and ring finger, stilling his hand as I pull off the digits. He hums, pushing his hand forward again, clearly wanting his fingers back in my mouth, but I shake my head.</p><p>Clay quirks a brow as I lean in, lips parted, and press my tongue to cracked skin of his knuckles, licking the cuts there. He swallows, taking a heavier breath, eyes dropping to watch my tongue. </p><p>It doesn't last long.</p><p>The hand Clay is using to cup my face drops to my neck and wraps around it, just barely lifting me so he can angle in for a kiss, sucker still in his stupid mouth.</p><p>I moan, eyes quickly closing as our lips connect and his tongue swipes into my mouth, dragging in blood and sugared spit. It tastes like... watermelon and pennies. Sharp, sweet, warm.</p><p>I moan, then take some control, pushing my tongue back into his mouth. I quickly curl it around the sucker, then tug, pulling it into my mouth before immediately pulling back.</p><p>I smile, smug, popping the sucker out of my mouth, holding it by the stick and looking up into Clay's eyes. He watches with heat as I lean forward, tongue first, and lathe the candy. </p><p>"Tease." He mumbles immediately, lifting his hand off my throat to cup my face again, dragging his thumb along my lip.</p><p>I smile. "Is it still teasing if I'm going to suck your dick?" I ask.</p><p>Clay's mouth drops in surprise, eyebrows lifting, before he leans back, hands already on his waistband.</p><p>I laugh. "No! Not— not in the fucking Walmart bathroom—" I say, slapping at his hand.</p><p>He fakes a pout, lips fighting to smile. "Will you please reconsider?" He asks, and I shake my head, laughing at him. </p><p>"Yeah, you're right. I've reconsidered. I'm not doing it at all now." I say, stabbing a finger to his chest. "Minecraft boy." </p><p>Clay makes a noise of protest, face splitting into a grin. "Well, Fine! I would rather be playing Minecraft, anyways." He says, slapping the graphic of his shirt.</p><p>I know that I bought it, but still, I sigh in disgust.</p><p>I turn away from Clay, dropping to collect all of our crime clothes into a single bag for disposal. All except the hat. I like the hat. He crouches with me, doing the same thing, but with a bag of shit we're keeping. He grabs himself a new sucker as well. Strawberry, this time, I note. I can't wait to taste it.</p><p>I put the hat on my head then I turn, tying off the bag, and see Clay actually put on the clown nose and eye-patch. I yelp, laughing, staring at him, grin splitting my face. </p><p>Clay lifts his hands, nodding. "Fuckable or what?" He asks, and I nearly fold from laughing so hard. </p><p>I reach out to slap his arm, then unlock and swing the bathroom door open. "C'mon bozo. We've got children's birthdays to attend—" I joke, then slip out of the bathroom.</p><p>We're greeted by a very irritated looking father holding his child. I immediately fluster, ducking my head as Clay keeps pressed to my back, shuffling out with me. I try as hard as I can to not immediately laugh, and actually manage it this time.</p><p>Though, it bursts out the second we're outside, as I jam our bag of blood-covered clothes into a trashcan. What a wild fucking night. </p><p>Clay wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me over to a bench to sit. "10 mins for Uber." He says, simple, and pulls me down into his lap.</p><p>Though I'm tempted to be horny, turn and get a taste of that candy right now, I control myself, pulling out my phone. I see I've missed a text from Ellie, a link to a video on Twitter.</p><p>I click it and groan, immediately angling the phone for Clay to see. </p><p>'CROCODILE HUNTER ABSOLUTELY DECIMATES FLORIDA MAN OUTSIDE OF 7/11'</p><p>We watch the fight unfold with my jaw dropped, right up until Clay shouts 'Sit, bitch.' And the video cuts. </p><p>Clay laughs under me. "I don't even remember— half of that." He says, chuckling. "I'm gonna be honest, he said 'Ma—' and my vision went fucking red." </p><p>I duck my head, shaking it, then copy the link to the video, navigating to Discord.</p><p>"Don't—" Is all Clay gets out, before its sent directly to George and Sapnap. I giggle mischievously. "Babe." He sighs out, obviously done with my bullshit. </p><p>I turn to look at Clay, a proud smile splitting my face. "Oh you didn't want me to send that? I guess you'll have to punish me by face f—" I start, but Clay claps his hand over my mouth, eyes darting over to a guy that walks up and starts smoking.</p><p>I don't miss the way Clay's hand tightens around my waist, almost imperceptibly shifting to put his body between me and the other guy. He does this wordlessly, and I'm not even sure if he's aware of it.</p><p>Still, it has me gushy. My big, protective, sensitive man. I lean forward just close enough to peck to corner of his lips, but it's enough for him to lift his hand, pulling the sucker out of my mouth, then the sucker out of his, just so we can can meet for a real kiss.</p><p>I sigh, relaxing into it, lifting a hand to his shoulder.</p><p>There's no intent in the kiss other than to connect us, mouths dragging together, lazy in their movement. I nip at Clay's lip and he smiles, but doesn't nip back, just kisses me softer, slower. We're kissing like we'll never get the chance to kiss again, savoring every little bit.</p><p>We're interrupted by Clay's phone dinging, and a car pulling up. Our Uber. As we break apart, He winks, popping his sucker back in his mouth. I part my lips, holding my mouth open, and he puts my sucker in for me, too, shaking his head.</p><p>As I wrap my lips around it, swirling it with my tongue, I notice it's strawberry.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. truth go brrrrrrr (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I hate Clay, I've decided. </p><p>His hand is firm, warm, high on my thigh, just kneading the flesh as he calmly and casually talks to our Uber driver. It's getting me breathy, fluttery, hips twitching in interest, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know what he's doing to me.</p><p>No one should have that much power in a fucking clown nose and eye-patch. </p><p>I lift my hand to his wrist and squeeze, trying to warn him off. He briefly turns toward me, searching my face, then smirks, and scoots his hand higher, up the hoodie. He hooks his fingers into the fishnets, playing with them while still touching my thigh.</p><p>Son of a bitch. He knows exactly what he's doing.</p><p>I huff, and turn my head to look out the window, deciding to forfeit and distract myself elsewhere. If I let myself keep acknowledging what he's doing... I'm going to moan. It feels that nice. </p><p>I drop my chin to my hand and stare up at the sky, seeing its a full moon, sighing, wishing I could see some stars, too. Sadly, we're in too big of a city for that.</p><p>I glance back at Clay. Maybe if I beg... maybe I can get him to— oh wait, shit. We've both been drinking. He probably can't drive. I huff another big sigh, pouting now.</p><p>Clay notices it, shooting me a look, moving his hand off, looking worried. Oops, he thinks I'm pissy with him. I catch his hand and drag it back, stuffing it right back up my hoodie, then lean in to lie my head on his shoulder.</p><p>"Sorry." I mumble. "I got sad because I wanted to leave the city and go see the stars."</p><p>Clay squeezes, turning in toward me, bumping me with his clown nose. "Why sad? We can go do that." </p><p>I shake my head. "We were drinking—" I start, but he interrupts. </p><p>"I've been sober for atleast at hour. Like nothing, no buzz. I can drive." </p><p>I purse my lips for that, thinking, feeling myself. I realize I feel totally sober as well. It must've worn off quick from the adrenaline rush and physical activity. Plus, it's been at least 3 hours since either of us had a drink. </p><p>I hum. "If you eat a meal, drink a glass of water, and stand on one leg for 30 seconds, I'll let you." I say, huffing a laugh. </p><p>Clay nods. "Fair enough." He says, then goes right back to playing with my thigh. </p><p>There's a moment of silence, then: "So are you guys dressed up as anything in particular, or is the clown nose just something he wears?" The Uber driver asks. </p><p>I snort a laugh, turning my face into Clay's shoulder. "It's a costume. He's um— uh..." I flounder, searching for what to say, but Clay cuts in, leaning forward to speak.</p><p>"I'm dressed as an Insane Clown Posse fan and she's an e-girl cowgirl." Clay says.</p><p>I groan, grimacing in distaste. The Uber driver just nods, probably having no clue what the fuck Clay's talking about. I plant my hand on top of his and squeeze, rolling my eyes at the smirk pulling his lips.</p><p>Big man really thinks he's so clever—</p><p>Still, the rest of drive is comfortable enough, getting a lot quieter after that. We hop out of the car quick, shuffling up to my apartment. As we get to the door I briefly cringe, remembering Ellie's guests, hoping they're not tongue-fucking in my living-room. </p><p>As I step in, Ellie shoots up from the couch, running up and wrapping me in a hug in the doorway.</p><p>"Dude—" She starts, and I laugh, hugging her right back. "Deadass thought you guys got arrested. It's—" She pulls back to check her phone. "—1am."</p><p>I scoot Ellie further in, making room so Clay can enter and shut the door, swinging our Walmart bag onto the couch.</p><p>"We're good. I'll tell you about it— some other day once we're sure nothing will come of it. Don't wanna make you an accomplice to Mr. Crocodile Hunter." I say, pointing a thumb at Clay. </p><p>"He hit me first, mommy." Clay immediately says, shedding the nose and eyepatch.</p><p>Ellie perks up, wanting details. "Did he?" She asks.</p><p>"No." I turn to slap Clay's shoulder. "Leave my roommate out of this." I say, serious.</p><p>Clay raises his hands in surrender and wanders toward the kitchen.</p><p>Ellie pouts, about to beg for more, but I interrupt, voice quiet. "The clown fiesta still here?" I ask, glancing around. </p><p>She furrows her brow, processing my words for just a moment before getting it. "Oh. Ally and Jade went home, Eric's spending the night here though, got sexiled by them. He's passed out in my room." She says.</p><p>I lift my brows, then Clay comes out of the kitchen with a bowl of cereal. "You think they're gonna keep the costumes on during? Genuine question." He asks, then starts to eat.</p><p>I scrunch up my face for that. "What— and like roleplay as you and George in bed?" </p><p>Clay's face pulls into an interesting expression, considering it. "I mean... you said it not me." He says, and I bark a laugh.</p><p>"I won't be the only Dream gettin' pussy tonight—" He continues, and I smack his head for it.</p><p>He curls into pleased smile, and we briefly make knowing eye-contact that lasts way too long. </p><p>"I'm leaving. Disgusting." Ellie says, deadpan, and starts to walk away. </p><p>I laugh again, turning to wave her off. "Good night! Sleep tight!" </p><p>Ellie doesn't turn back, just flips me off and goes to her room. Alone with Clay I flop down onto the couch and dig for more candy. I grab another sucker, blue razzberry this time, then swing up my legs, settling in. </p><p>Clay walks over, collecting both of my ankles in one hand and lifting my legs to make himself a space to sit, then drops my legs back in his lap. I press my foot to his stomach for it, forcing him to exhale. He glares, but doesn't do anything else, focused on eating.</p><p>We sit like that until Clay's done and up, and comes back chugging a bottle of water. </p><p>"Ready to go?" He asks.</p><p>I look up from my phone. "Stand on one leg first."</p><p>He does, wobbling for just a second before doing it and holding it for a full minute. I decide it's enough and hop to my feet, giddy, grabbing his keys for him. I'm almost out the door before I pause and think. </p><p>I turn quick, smacking right into Clay's chest, nearly falling. But, he catches and steadies me. </p><p>"What? Forget something?" He asks.</p><p>I nod, slipping out of his hands and dart for my room. I grab a massive comforter and pillows. I pause for a moment, eyes catching on the pepper spray and knife he got me and decide to grab them for security, slipping them both into my hoodie pocket. On the way out for a second time, I also grab the bag of candy. Clay laughs at me for it, which is probably deserved. </p><p>We make our way outside, me stuffing everything in his backseat and hopping in shot-gun. I immediately grab the aux and put on 'I Love My Daddy - Ayesha Erotica' biting my lip to stifle a laugh as we get on the road.</p><p>The song gets to the chorus for only a few seconds before Clay snatches the aux cord out of my phone.</p><p>"You're not funny. You're never fucking funny." He says, but I can see him smiling as he shakes his head.</p><p>"Give it back—" I start, grabbing for it with a pout. </p><p>"No fucking shot." He says back, splitting into a toothy grin.</p><p>I keep pouting, grabbing for it. "I'll be good this time! Hand to God! I'll behave!" </p><p>Clay groans, glancing at me like he can check if I'm telling the truth through his eyes. "You'll be a good girl?" He asks.</p><p>I nod, rapid fire. "Yeah! Please! Give it back—" I continue pouting and he finally relents, tossing it back to me.</p><p>I plug it into my phone. I'm lying, of course. I click the next song. 'Cum - Brooke Candy'. I survive for just a second as the song starts on an instrumental. But I skip ahead, just to play a certain part of the song.</p><p>Make me cum, make me squirt<br/>See my titties through my shirt</p><p>Get me off, get me wet<br/>Push my pussy to the—</p><p>"OKAY." Clay shouts, and rips the cord back, pulling into random street parking and plugging it into his own phone. I lose it laughing, incredibly proud of my myself. </p><p>"No more aux for you. You're a fucking terror." He mumbles then plays his own music. </p><p>I bite my lip, still proud, watching as he puts on 'Demi - Comethazine'. I immediately grimace. </p><p>I just wanna fuck Demi<br/>Nut on her titties<br/>Whip out my cock<br/>Make the bitch lick it</p><p>"Please— not the male rap—" I say, groaning.</p><p>"Accept your punishment." Clay says, grinning.</p><p>I want to protest, not seeing how this is any better than the dumb shit I was playing, but Clay twists, planting an arm to the back of my seat, turning to look as he backs out. My mood is suddenly, much more... agreeable. </p><p>I shift my hips, letting my thighs fall apart a little further, and ruck my hoodie up as high as it can go without my pussy just straight up being out. I look over at Clay's face as he turns back, focusing on driving. My eyes dart from his forming black eye, to the puffy part of his lip, and I clench on air. </p><p>I can't last. I need this man fucking himself inside of me while I just—</p><p>I'm startled out of my mental moment of imagining Clay fingering me while he fucking drives, by his hand landing on my thigh and squeezing. His fingers hook into the fishnet again. It's like a trap. The prey? Horny gamer hand. </p><p>"Where we going? I'm literally... just driving in a direction right now." He asks, briefly reading road signs.</p><p>"Out of the city. Anywhere out of the city. Let's find a clearing and just— claim it." I say.</p><p>"So..." Clay starts, squinting and popping a U-turn. "North, probably." He says. </p><p>I shrug, leaning into his space, trusting him to get us there.</p><p>And, get us there he does.</p><p>It takes half an hour, but we finally get to beat to shit winding roads, minimal light pollution areas, trees and grass. After the first song, Clay's music got softer, better. I think the first song was just to mess with me. </p><p>I'm really resonating with the current song, 'Good In Bed - Dua Lipa', and maybe projecting onto the lyrics. </p><p>I dedicate this verse to<br/>All that good pipe in the moonlight</p><p>I laugh, humming along. "Relatable." I mumble out. It gets Clay to turn and look at me, shaking his head, smiling, then the next bit plays.</p><p>And the long nights<br/>Where we did everything but talk it through<br/>That's what we do, yeah</p><p>I scream for that lyric, clapping my hand over my mouth. "Relatable—" I say again.</p><p>"No— what? We're not like that." Comes in Clay the clown. I turn in my seat, raising my brows at him. </p><p>"We were." I start, searching his face, seeing he looks annoyed. "Mister 'not dating yet just exclusively fucking each other and also I'm in love with you'." </p><p>Clay opens his mouth to defend himself, but I continue. </p><p>"Mister 'I just got out of a relationship that's why we can't date' ass bitch." I say.</p><p>Clay rolls his head back on his shoulders for that one, jaw ticking. "Hey. It was half true. I did just get out of relationship. Plus— how do you even know what I was thinking?" </p><p>I smile, letting myself cause problems. "Yeah? You wanna get out of another relationship? Keep it up."</p><p>He side-eyes me for that. "Don't. Not fuckin' funny." His voice is low, stiff.</p><p>I swallow the words, feeling bad. I didn't realize that would actually cut. I lean back in, planting my head on his shoulder, curling two hands around his arm. </p><p>"Sorry." I mumble. "Too far. Didn't realize I was actually still a little hurt over the whole ordeal." </p><p>He huffs a sigh, but turns to kiss my forehead, and it feels okay again. The song continues, and I keep mumble singing along with it. </p><p>Got me thinkin' it'd be better<br/>If we didn't stay together<br/>Then you put your hands upon my waist</p><p>I watch Clay's hand tense on the wheel this time. "C'mon. This can't be that relatable—" He says. His voice is low, but I can hear the hurt there. </p><p>Alright. I guess it's time for some honestly.</p><p>"They are. I cried over you. Like a lot, actually. I fucking— I cried over you to Ellie, and to George, because it felt like you were using me for sex. I was... genuinely worried that the second you didn't wanna fuck I'd get fucking ghosted, dropped like nothing—"</p><p>Clay makes a desperate sounding noise, but I continue. </p><p>"—George literally had to tell me about your little plan so that I didn't ghost you, myself." I admit. </p><p>"That's not— it's— this was never like that to me. You mean so much more than— I—" Clay starts, voice desperate. </p><p>"I know, I know. I've got it now."I interrupt. "I love you, too." I say, as Clay takes a steadying breath.</p><p>There's a mutual silence, before Clay starts again. "Also George told you what?" </p><p>Oops. "Um..." I start, pursing my lips and shifting back into my seat.</p><p>Clay immediately parks, adjusting his seat back, reaching over, unbuckling me and reeling me into his lap.</p><p>"Go ahead. Speak your truth." He says, as I turn to hide my face in his chest. </p><p>Damn. No getting out of this one. I feel his hands tighten, holding me in place.</p><p>"Uh— um. So like, he might've, he like, so... he—" </p><p>"Spit it out." </p><p>"He told me you referred to me as your end game dream girl and that you had a plan and that you had a little crush on me forever and that—" I stop myself, realizing I'm rambling, and bury my face further.</p><p>"Uh-huh." Is all Clay says back, but I feel his hands tense. </p><p>I pull out to look up at his face, seeing the ticked jaw and knit brow. I immediately lift both hands to hold his face, leaning in to press soothing kisses to his chin. </p><p>"C'mon, don't be mad—" I say with a pout. "It worked out, didn't it?"</p><p>Clay closes his eyes, letting out a tense huff, then seems to somewhat relax, hands going looser where they rest on my body, spurring into soothing motions of their own.</p><p>"Not mad at you. Never mad at you." He mumbles back, dipping to chase my mouth, meeting for a single soft kiss before pulling back.</p><p>"Now, George, on the other hand—" He starts, and I bark a laugh. </p><p>"Take it easy on him— he really only did it to help you out." I say, softer than expected.</p><p>Clay grumbles. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." </p><p>I open my mouth to speak again, but he's quicker. "Well, fuckin'... anyways. We're here." He says, and I immediately crane my neck to look, realizing he's right. We're actually down a random unpaved road, pulled just off it, next to a small clearing. </p><p>I duck my head, embarrassed at the severity of the conversation I caused, but realizing it needed to happen. I feel... lighter, now that all of that has been admitted. </p><p>I slide back into my own seat, swinging my door open and hopping out of the car. I should get the shit out of the backseat, but instead, some wild flowers catch my eyes. I go right for them. I am but a human. A very stupid human. </p><p>I coo, happy, dropping to a crouch and immediately start picking, hearing Clay laugh at me for it. Singularly focused, I fill my arms, smelling as I pluck each one until I have a mismatched bouquet. </p><p>I carry my spoils back to Clay's car and dump them off in the backseat, noticing the blanket and pillows are gone. I crane my neck, seeing he's already spread it out, laying on his back, just waiting for me to come join. </p><p>There's something inside me that goes soft, and I make a noise I don't even register. It must be loud enough that Clay hears, because he tilts his head back to look, smiling the second he sees me, waving, just visible in the moonlight.</p><p>It makes me flutter, affection burning a hole at the pit of my stomach. I wave back, looking at the bruises on his face.</p><p>Hm. </p><p>Uh-huh. </p><p>I quickly realize how bad I want to fuck him. Like right here. Like on a blanket on the ground. Like right fucking now. </p><p>Alright then.</p><p>I walk over, swing my leg, and sit right down, straddling his lap. </p><p>Clay grunts in surprise, lifting both hands to my thighs, hooking his fingers into the fishnets, briefly lifting from his laying position, searching my face. </p><p>I part my lips, dart my tongue out, and rock my hips, getting a small, breathy, moan in return. I like watching the realization dawn on Clay, a smile slowly splitting his face. I lean in, brushing my fingers along the cut on his lip. </p><p>"Ready to collect your reward for this?" I ask, humored.</p><p>"Yeah? Right here?" He asks back, and rocks his hips up against me.</p><p>I can feel his cock twitch with interest between my legs, so I smile, emptying my pocket, then pull the hoodie up and off.</p><p>"Yeah. Right fuckin' here."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. coochie man (smut, fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cw: some knifeplay</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The second the hoodie is off, Clay is sitting up, both hands on my ass, holding me flush to his body, latching his mouth to my neck with an insistency. </p><p>I feel my breath hitch, hands shooting up to thread into his hair as I feel the all too familiar sensation of his tongue, hot on my throat. It's too easy to lose myself in it, tilting my chin back and taking shuddered breaths as he nips at the skin. </p><p>"I was— ah—" I inhale sharply as Clay's mouth tightens down, sucking to bruise. My eyes start to roll back, fluttering. </p><p>I was trying to reward him, but I'm the one getting worked right now. </p><p>"Let me—" I gasp as his hips lift, pressing his now hard cock directly between my legs and rolling.</p><p>I have to pull Clay's hair, getting him off my neck. Still, he fights it, moving for me. I feel bold. I drop a hand from his hair and wrap it around his throat, pushing, forcing him to pause his movement.</p><p>"Let me fucking speak." I bite out, catching my breath. </p><p>Clay finally stops, lowering his eyes and leaning back, looking up and down my body. He lifts a hand to my hip, dips his thumb into my waistband, then finally looks at my face.</p><p>"Go ahead." He says, low, quiet, commanding.</p><p>It makes me involuntarily moan. An immediate smug smile spreads his face. I'm doing such a bad job keeping any semblance of control. </p><p>"I want—" I start, squeezing his neck and dropping to rock my hips into his lap. "To make you feel good." I lean closer. "So be a good boy. Lay down. And let me."</p><p>Clay lifts his brows, then grabs my forearm, pulling my hand off his throat. He tilts his face into it, holding me steady and kissing my wrist. I feel myself stutter to a stop, suddenly too nervous to take control while his eyes are locked to mine like this.</p><p>But, it doesn't matter. </p><p>Clay drops my arm, leans back, pulls his shirt off,<br/>then lays down, both hands resting on my hips. He keeps rocking under me, getting friction, but it's all slow, leisurely. </p><p>It's permission.</p><p>I plant both hands to his stomach, steadying myself as I lift onto my knees. Once up, I hook my thumbs into the waistband of the fishnets and my panties. I get them just down my hips before Clay's hands are on mine, pausing my movement.</p><p>"I want these to stay on." He says, voice even, pulling the fishnets back up.</p><p>I roll my eyes. "What? You gonna tear a hole for your dick?" I tease, then start to push them down again. I don't make it far before Clay's sitting up.</p><p>"Let me get it." He mumbles, so I pause, lifting my hands to his shoulders, letting him. </p><p>I watch, surprised as he picks up and flips open the pocket knife I brought, breath hitching. He's really gonna—</p><p>My brain melts as Clay pushes a hand between my legs, briefly palming me over my underwear, before his fingers hook into the fishnet and pull it down. I tighten my hands on his shoulders, feeling myself tense as he pushes forward with the knife, right between my legs, slowly slicing through the fishnets.</p><p>He pushes a little too far forward, and the tip of the knife catches on the fabric of my underwear.</p><p>"Sorry—" Clay says as I moan. </p><p>I immediately feel my face flush with heat, shying away as his eyes flick up to meet mine. He pushes it forward again, pressing between my legs feather light. I swallow, rough, but it's not enough to stop the second moan. Clay's eyebrows go up.</p><p>"Yeah?"  Is all he asks before pressing the flat of the blade to my pussy over the fabric and grinding with it.</p><p>I nod, about all I can manage, moans already pathetically high and desperate.</p><p>Clay drags his tongue across his lip before biting down in concentration. I get a second of peace before his fingers dip into the waistband of my panties, holding it out, then he slices that, effectively cutting them off of me.</p><p>It's... fucking hot. I moan again as he pulls my underwear off, leaving me exposed. Now, it's just me, my fishnets, him, and his exploding ego.</p><p>Clay's hand holding the knife shifts to my thigh. He keeps the knife gripped with his pinky and ring finger as the other three press into my thigh and grip there, holding the knife against me. He lifts his free hand to cup my face, thumb dragging along my lower lip. </p><p>I whimper, body strung tight with nerves despite the burning arousal in my stomach. </p><p>"You into that?" Clay asks, smug, because he obviously knows the fucking answer.</p><p>I open my mouth to speak, but the second I do, he pushes his thumb in, dragging it against my tongue. Suddenly, I'm speechless, focused on curling my tongue. I find the wits to nod, then wrap my lips around it.</p><p>Clay smiles, head tilting back. "You..." He starts, but exhales, shaking the thought. "Open your mouth." </p><p>So, I do. </p><p>"My little fuckin' whore." He says, soft and low, almost affectionate, shifting his hand so his can fuck his index and middle finger into my mouth instead.</p><p>My everything flutters, thoughts fuzzing over. His hand with the knife moves back, flipping it closed, and tossing it back down. I whine for that. I wanted it— more.</p><p>"Next time, baby." Clay mumbles, then pulls his fingers out of my mouth, immediately moving that hand down and sliding the fingers I wet with spit against my pussy, massaging everything sensitive. </p><p>Clay tips forward again, mouth latching onto my chest. I wrap my arms around his head, hooking my hands into his hair, and realize I fucked up again. He's just... melting me. </p><p>"I'm sorry—" I start, high, whiny. "I'm not doing very good at— ah— at taking care of you." </p><p>He just laughs against my chest, pulling back to scrape his stubble along my skin and look at me. </p><p>"Its okay. I get off on this. I like the—" His lips twitch as all the warning I get before he pushes both fingers inside of me and curls them.</p><p>My moan is shuddered, loud, mouth falling open and staying open as my hips twitch to ride his hand.</p><p>"That. I like watching that happen. Knowing I fucking did that to you." He says, low, then locks his mouth to my breast. </p><p>I mewl, clenching my thighs, pulsing on his fingers. I look down, seeing he's got his other hand in his lap, palming his own erection as he stimulates me. </p><p>There's a small spark of guilt, watching Clay do all the work while I just arch and make noise, scraping my nails down his neck. I steady myself, land both hands on his shoulders, and push back, getting him off my chest. </p><p>He lets me, leaning back with a smile, knowing what he's going to get out of me, still palming himself. </p><p>I keep looking down, clenching on his fingers as I watch his hand squeeze around the fabric surrounding his cock. He gets it tight for just a second, and even though I've seen it before, the outline of his erection gets to me. </p><p>I lower my eyelashes, rolling my hips, just watching and feeling his hands. It's the... massive spread, stretch, length, fucking size of his hands, that gets me just... gone. I lean in, palming his dick over his sweatpants too, surprised when he covers my hand with his and guides me. </p><p>I hear Clay's breath hitch, his hips lifting to roll into the pressure of my palm. He holds my hand in place, then squeezes it, forcing me to squeeze his cock. He moans, breathy, quiet. </p><p>It really gets to me. </p><p>I adjust, moving to slip into his waistband, finally getting skin to skin, my hand on his dick. I hear a shuddered exhale, feeling him rock into it, before he lifts his hips and hooks his thumbs into his waistband, shoving his sweatpants down his thighs. </p><p>I feel myself flush with heat as his cock springs free, my fingers already brushing along it. </p><p>"You want me to suck you off or ride you?" I ask, suddenly bold the second I see it. It's for him, so it's his choice.</p><p>Clay just hums, seemingly thinking before he melts into a predatory smile, flopping over to lay down and adjust his hips. "I really like your mouth." He says.</p><p>I take it as direction enough, and start to scoot down, getting ready to get between his legs.</p><p>Clay grunts, stilling me by grabbing my hips instead, pulling me higher. "Up here." He says, and I think I catch his drift. </p><p>"Really?" I ask, furrowing my brow. "Sixty-nine? I'll give you anything you want— like I'm telling you I'll give you top for hours and you're choosing—" </p><p>Clay laughs, shaking his head. "Not quite, baby." He says, then tugs my hips, man-handling me into position. He pushes me off of him, to his side, my body parallel to the length of his bent arm, with my head on his stomach. </p><p>"Ass up like you're doing doggy." He says, so I do, tilting my hips up, arching. </p><p>I gasp in surprise as his forearm presses flush to my stomach and his hand slips between my legs, two fingers sliding into my slick to circle my clit. </p><p>"I can watch you choke on my cock like this— watch you cum on my fingers with my dick down your throat." Clay says, then proves his point by sinking two fingers inside of me, fucking them in and out. </p><p>I don't want to admit how that makes me feel, everything suddenly very... warm. </p><p>I lift a hand to rest on his stomach, the other wrapping around the base of his cock and holding it in place. I lean in, pressing the head of it to my lips and kissing, swiping my tongue out briefly just to taste. </p><p>There's an immediate noise out of Clay as my tongue makes contact, his hand tensing between my legs, his other hand darting up to collect my hair and pull it while trying to guide me in. </p><p>"Head pusher alert." I chastise, dropping down to mouth at the base of his cock instead of taking it right away because of that.</p><p>Clay grunts, hand between my legs getting more demanding, almost like a punishment, thumb dragging against my clit as his fingers curl hard. </p><p>"Hurry the fuck up, then." He says, grinning.</p><p>I moan, noisy, desperate, arching into sensation, tightening the hand I have on his cock. </p><p>Fine. Two can play at that game. </p><p>I open my mouth with intent, holding Clay steady as I sink down on his cock, pushing until it's in my throat, then swallowing and holding. I push my tongue out to swipe against his skin, curling it. </p><p>"Fuck— baby—" He actually whines out. His hands both tense and freeze in place, as he rocks against my mouth. I swallow again just to hear him moan.</p><p>I hold as long as I can before pulling off, keeping suction along the way. I pop off his cock with a smug smile to breathe, just mouthing at the head of it, jerking him off, keeping my tongue pressed. </p><p>I watch Clay's abdomen go taut, enjoying the control for only a moment longer before he seems to remember his hands. His thumb starts flicking my clit in a way that makes my everything arch into it, pussy clenching down on the fingers he's using to pet my insides.</p><p>I open my mouth, getting his cock back in before I moan, just to vibrate it. I try to focus on his stimulation, keep things equal, but his hands just... just... fuck. His hands. I whine, hollowing my cheeks on his cock as my pussy throbs, orgasm burning low in my stomach, so much closer than I want it to be. </p><p>"You gonna cum from my fingers that fast?" Clay asks. I nod with his dick still in my mouth. I sure am.</p><p>I pull back to keep him shallow, knowing I'll need to pop off when I cum, rocking against his hand with jerky, desperate motions, tracing his cock head with my tongue.</p><p>Clay looks... smug. As he should. Bastard can work me like nothing else can. My eyes flutter shut as he pulls his fingers out of me, moving his middle and index to my clit, flicking with a stuttered speed that makes me short circuit.</p><p>I twitch, nearly overwhelmed by the sensation. "Clay please—" Is as far as I get before I gasp, eyes shutting tight, orgasm cresting over as I curl and arch, throbbing, gripping down on nothing. </p><p>I mouth at Clay's cock with all the mental presence I have, which is honestly... not much. I can hear the stream of noise that drips out of me, only getting higher, breathier as I shiver through my first climax. </p><p>Clay doesn't stop between my legs. Instead, his hand goes right back up, three fingers pushing inside, thumb planting on my clit. </p><p>"H-how am I supposed to suck you off like this—" I moan out, breathy, barely able to move my hand on his cock let alone get my mouth on it, entire body focused on what he's doing to me between my legs.</p><p>He immediately slows to just teasing, pulling my hair until I'm forced to look up at him. "If you don't get that bratty mouth back on my cock I'm gonna start fucking it myself."</p><p>I whimper, spurring into motion. Though, what he said makes me almost completely stop, just so he does it.</p><p>"Good girl." He says to me, breathy, head rolling back on his shoulders as I get my lips wrapped back around his cock, taking the length. </p><p>I start to move, guided by his hand tangled in my hair lathing my tongue on everything, lips wrapped tight. It's like Clay suddenly remembers to make this impossible for me, hand between my legs spurring back into motion. </p><p>I stream out a guttural moan around his cock, eyes squeezing shut, hand twitching where it's also wrapped around him. Thankfully, it gets a moan from him right back. His hips twitch against my mouth, the temptation to snap them against my face and bury himself down my throat presumably strong. </p><p>I decide I have to concentrate, swallowing once before steadying myself, focusing in on making him feel good, ignoring the hand between my legs. </p><p>I do my best, losing myself in the sensation of chasing his pleasure, bobbing my head on his cock with purpose, suction, lathing my tongue. </p><p>The noises it gets out of Clay... melt me. "—such a pretty fucking mouth—" He moans out, high, breathy. "Choke on it, c'mon." He says, just barely begging, trying to force me lower. </p><p>I can do that.</p><p>I relax my throat, only moving faster, sloppy noises coming from me as his dick hits the back of my throat, taste of pre-cum heavy on my tongue. </p><p>Clay's hand tenses in my hair, guiding me down until my lips are pressed to his skin, then holding me in place. His hand immediately gets demanding, fucking into me an an absolutely punishing pace. </p><p>I pulse my throat, eyes rolling back in my head, tears pricking in the corners, small choked noises bubbling out of me. </p><p>I whine, trying to tap out so I can breathe, but Clay keeps me held in place, his cock buried in my throat. I swallow around it, moans nearly constant, a small fuzz in my brain from the oxygen deprivation. He's actually choking me on his fucking cock. </p><p>"Fucking take it." He mumbles, breathy, sounding gone himself, hips rocking against my head.</p><p>So I do, relaxing further, pulsing my tongue, throbbing on his fingers. </p><p>"God you're my— ah— you're my fucking whore— please—"</p><p>I close my eyes, trying to hold, but the burn in my lungs starts to get overwhelming, desperation to pull off and breathe making my heart thud in my chest. I tap out with more insistency this time, body feeling tight, whimpering. </p><p>"C'mon baby— stay on my fucking cock—" He moans out, begging, staring me down, slowly starting to move his hips against my mouth.</p><p>I barely manage to look up at him, holding a second of eye-contact, seeing the hesitation and severity of his expression before my eyes roll back in my head and I nod to consent. I focus on what he's doing between my legs, letting myself feel it, unable to feel anything else. </p><p>"Obedient fucking— God baby—" He sighs out, sounding blissed, taking heavy breaths, finally rolling his hips to fuck my throat.</p><p>I can't even moan anymore, burn in my lungs nearly painful, pulsing my throat with choked noises. I go until I fucking can't, then I tap out again, with absolute insistency, forcing my head off, about to cum again.</p><p>Clay finally relaxes, letting me go. I draw in an immediate heavy, desperate breath, replacing my mouth with my hand, coughing and gasping from the time spent choking on his dick. He gets one good curl of his fingers and I crest over. My entire body shudders with the force of it, pussy throbbing around his fingers, wishing it was more.</p><p>"Please—" Is what I get out, voice rough. "I want you inside. Please." </p><p>Clay hums, fingers slowing, then pulling out completely so his hand can circle to my hip, supporting me. "You think you can still ride?" He asks, suddenly soft, attentive, his other hand dropping my hair to cup my face, thumb wiping a tear from my cheek.</p><p>I hazily blink, nodding in Clay's palm, then lift myself up, swinging back to straddling his lap. He smiles up at me, lifting his hips, readjusting. </p><p>I feel soft, cum-lax, fucked out of my mind already. He just... does that to me. I get a hand around his cock, slowly stroking it while I take a moment to collect myself, then press it flat to his stomach. I lift, holding myself open, then sit so that his cock slides between my pussy lips. </p><p>I roll my hips like that, grinding my clit against him, stimulating the length. </p><p>I watch Clay's smile spread, hands on my hips squeezing once as his eyes turn down to look. He lifts his hips into it, grinding right back. </p><p>I roll my head back on my shoulders, eyes fluttering. "Feels so nice..." I mumble out, soft.</p><p>Clay nods in agreement, hands starting to rub in soothing motions on my hips. "You're so fucking wet baby. Feels—" He doesn't finish that thought either, moaning instead. "Fuck— just, keep it up baby..." He sighs out.</p><p>I make a soft noise, wanting to listen, lean into it, get Clay off like this, but I want him inside. I lift to my knees. He immediately protests, tugging on my hips, sitting me right back down.</p><p>I huff a laugh. "C'mon... lemme get you inside of me. I want you to feel good." I say, dragging my hands up his ribs, supporting myself, rolling my hips to give him friction. </p><p>"I do feel good— this feels good—" Clay moans right back, rolling against me, sounding desperate, so distracted chasing his pleasure he's not thinking. </p><p>I hesitate, but lift again. Clay grunts, rolls his hips against air, obviously frustrated. I lean up, until I'm right next to his ear, then nip the lobe. </p><p>"Relax daddy. Let me ride. I want your cum dripping out of— ah—" I'm interrupted by a soft gasp as his hands readjust, one holding my hip still, the other gripping his cock to line up. Then, he snaps his hips. </p><p>I immediately moan into Clay's neck, mouthing the skin there for a second while I steady myself. He gets both hands back on my hips, holding me in place, and starts to thrust, rhythm jagged. </p><p>I whimper, barely managing to push off and up, back to sitting, supporting myself on his chest. </p><p>"This what you fucking wanted?" Clay grits out, brow tight, fucking into me hard enough that I bounce in his lap. "Fuckin' cumslut." </p><p>"Yeah." Is all I manage to say, high, whiny.</p><p>I relax for just a moment, head rolling back on my shoulders, letting him treat me like an object, just briefly. Finally, I collect my wits, and reclaim the rhythm rolling back with his movement, lifting my knees and riding.</p><p>Clay just... melts under me, head cast back, swallowing rough, holding my hips tight enough to bruise as his moans get constant. I can tell we won't be doing this long. I squeeze him with my hands and bounce with purpose. </p><p>I watch his mouth open, and stay open, half-lidded eyes just watching me work. Both of his hands readjust to my thighs, letting me have complete control, fingers hooking into the fishnet and gripping down hard.</p><p>I hope it bruises. </p><p>"Let me— let me— let me see you touch yourself while split on my cock—" Clay moans out, eyes locked between my legs, both thumbs rubbing soothing circles. </p><p>I nod, mewling a soft moan, slowing to a near stop so I can adjust and drop a hand between my legs. I start quick, pressing in a single finger to circle my clit. It feels... amazing.</p><p>I tilt my head back, moans high and breathy as I struggle to find a rhythm with my hips, riding Clay poorly, distracted by my fingers. Thankfully, he gets it, and readjusts to he can move his hips, fucking himself into me to meet my movement.</p><p>"Clay." Is about all I can manage to sigh out, feeling the heat build in my stomach as I touch myself and bounce on him. </p><p>Still, it seems like enough, Clay's face completely lax with pleasure, eyes rolling back when I clench just right. </p><p>"C'mon baby, I'm close— just— cum for me. Just cum for me— baby cmon." Clay sighs out.</p><p>My body listens to that like a command, gripping with force, fingers stuttering to a new rapid rhythm. I whine and nod, digging my nails into his ribs, briefly finding the perfect angle to to ride his cock, then tip. </p><p>I keen, folding all the way forward, shuddering into an orgasm, movement faltering. The second I do, Clay's hands are back on my hips, holding me in place so he fuck himself into me. His thrusts are rough, ragged, chasing. </p><p>I keep mewling moans, entire body arching and pulling tight as Clay finds his rhythm to fuck into my spent pussy, just holding on for the ride. I keep fluttering, clenching, bracing myself, trying to be the perfect hole for him to fuck. </p><p>I see and feel the second Clay's about to cum, his head casting back, knees lifting, cock flexing inside of me.</p><p>"Fuck, fuck, fuck— fuck me— oh my God baby— fuck." Drops from his mouth, whimpered, interrupted as he grits his teeth, nearly shouting as he rips into his orgasm with a guttural moan.</p><p>All I can do is moan back, completely overstimulated as he snaps his hips, fucking his cum into me as deep as he can before he finally stops, rocking against me, hands going loose. </p><p>Clay just... liquifies after that. But, so do I. I completely fold, pressing my face into his chest throbbing while his spent cock twitches inside of me. I lift both hands to catch one of his forearms, curling my fingers around it and pulling it up to my chest to hold it, threading one of my hands into his. </p><p>It's grounding.</p><p>Clay keeps making small, pleased noises, breath heavy as he keeps rocking his hips against me. I'm startled when his other hand lands on my back, but lean into it the second I realize what it is.</p><p>He soothes me with it, dragging it up my back, to my shoulders and hooking it into my hair to pet there. There's silence for a moment, while we collect ourselves, wrapped in each other, everything flush. But, he breaks it. </p><p>"Fuck." Clay says, breathy.</p><p>I split into a smile, turning my face up to look at his, finding he's already watching me.</p><p>"Yeah?" I ask, teasing him the same way he always teases me.</p><p>Clay seems to get it, smiling right back, rolling his eyes. Still, he leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead, tugging me up with the arm I don't have in my grasp. </p><p>"Yeah. Get up here." He says, low and relaxed, blinking at me. </p><p>I groan, but listen, sitting all the way up and lifting to my knees, feeling everything as he slips out of me. Unexpectedly, his hands land high on my thighs, both thumbs holding me spread. I look up, seeing his pleased expression as he watches me drool cum right out onto him and down my thighs.</p><p>I pulse, forcing more out, since he wants to see it so fucking bad. </p><p>"I feel like this might be a kink." I say, humming. </p><p>"Nah." Is all he says back, eyes locked between my legs. </p><p>"No, I'm pretty sure it's—" I try to start again, but he looks up, interrupting me. </p><p>"And what would we call the way you act around my hands?" He asks, lifting one and waving his fingers. </p><p>I purse my lips. Touché. </p><p>"Fine." I huff, rolling my eyes. "We both like your cum a totally normal amount." I bite my lip, looking at the mess we've made, itching to go down. </p><p>Clay must have the exact same thought, because he squeezes my thigh. "You gonna clean that up?" He asks, smug smirk curling his lips.</p><p>I glare. "Fuck you." I mumble back, but I'm already shifting down to get it with my mouth.</p><p>He shudders as I make contact, leading with my tongue, a single hand landing in my hair and hooking in, holding my head as I clean the cum off his cock and abdomen. </p><p>I look up at his face while I do it, seeing the way his lips part to exhale with the stimulus. He blinks slowly, pleasure splitting his face as he stares right back at me. </p><p>"Good girl." He sighs out, and I groan, feeling my stomach flutter. I cannot believe how bad he gets to me. </p><p>I glare as I sit up again, realizing I need to clean myself too. I fumble for a moment, then find my shredded underwear, and use them as a rag, wiping myself down. </p><p>"You owe me underwear, by the way. And a new pair of fishnets." I say, with a huff.</p><p>Clay fully laughs, squeezing me and tugging, trying to get me to come higher. "I'll buy you a hundred pairs if I can keep cutting them off to rail you." </p><p>I smile, scooting higher until I can sit down on his ribcage and lean in, kissing his nose. "Deal." I mumble, then press another kiss, pulling back up to sitting.</p><p>Clay's literally beaming underneath of me, rubbing my thighs, watching as I fumble around for my hoodie. As I start to slip it over my head I feel him shift, and realize he's pulling his pants back up, too, rolling his hips to adjust just right. </p><p>Both dressed, I scoot even higher, until I'm on Clay's chest, then double over, wrapping his head in both of my arms and cradling it to my chest. He lets out a pleased noise, one arm sliding under the hoodie to wrap around my waist, the other staying over the cloth and holding my ass. </p><p>I press a kiss to the top of his head, burying my face in his hair to just breathe. We hold each other like that for no more than a moment, before Clay's speaking again. </p><p>"Can we— can I please get my head between your thighs instead?" He asks, muffled from where he's buried in my chest. </p><p>I immediately pull back, brow furrowed in disbelief. "More sex? Already?" I ask.</p><p>Clay smiles, soft, shaking his head no. "No, I just— I wanna get squished between them." </p><p>I huff a laugh. "Oh. Like on TikTok?" I ask, already lifting onto my knees. He nods. </p><p>I swing myself off and to Clay's side as he sits up, giving me room. I settle back into the pillows, parting my legs, trying to keep what's between them somewhat covered with the hoodie. </p><p>Clay comes down immediately, back of his head landing between my thighs as I swing my legs over his shoulders. He turns his head to press a kiss to my inner thigh, lifting both hands to curl his fingers back into the fishnets, settling in. The second he's comfortable I squeeze with my thighs, landing both hands to stroke his facial hair, playing with it. </p><p>I watch his face briefly tilt back to look at me, and take advantage, folding in half to catch his lips. The kiss is soft, slow, comfortable. </p><p>"Spiderman kiss." I mumble, as I pull back. </p><p>Clay cracks into a grin, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he stares at my face. Finally satisfied I flop back and look up, staring at the stars we came out here for in the first place. </p><p>It makes me laugh. "We're deadass outside right now." I say.</p><p>Clay laughs right back, shaking his head. "You're the one that made that decision." </p><p>I pout, squeezing his head again. "No. It's your fault that you looked at me like that." I retort.</p><p>He tilts back, brow drawn again. "Like what?" He asks.</p><p>I roll my eyes. "Like— like a—" I taper off, realizing whatever I say will be embarrassing for me. </p><p>"Like I'm in love?" He asks with a laugh, and I relax. </p><p>"Yeah. Like that." I mumble back, tilting my head to look at the stars again. "That's a worthwhile view." I say, soft, hoping to change the subject. </p><p>I hear Clay hum and look down at him, seeing he's staring at me. He looks pleased as he opens his mouth. I don't let him speak.</p><p>"If you're about to say any variation of calling me a worthwhile view or prettier than the stars, I'm coming down there to knee you in the—" I start, sitting up and stabbing a finger into his chest. He interrupts me right back. </p><p>"Hey." Clay starts, low, soft. I freeze up as he lifts a hand, curling a bit of my hair around his finger then pressing all the way up to cup my face. "The view tonight is breathtaking. I'm talking about you."</p><p>I grimace at the way it makes me melt. </p><p>"I hate you." I mumble back, splitting into a smile, then double down to kiss him again. "You disgust me." I say right against his lips, kissing again.</p><p>As soon as I pull back, Clay's speaking again, fumbling to pull out his phone. "Oh I was— I was thinking about like, when we were in the car and you said that song reminded you of us?" </p><p>I quirk a brow, staring at his face, listening. "Yeah?" I ask. </p><p>I'm responded to with only silence. I tap his face to get his attention. "Clay?"</p><p>"Huh—" He startles, seemingly remembering that he was speaking. "Sorry I was..." He hums, then angles his phone up for me to see. "Look at the goon squad." He says, laughing.</p><p>I bite my lip, craning my neck to look and see. </p><p>Shitass<br/>1 Attachment<br/>'george is a bottom confirmed???? 🤭' 10:05 pm</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'ngl to u thats hot'<br/>'😏 dream do be lowkey kinda thicc tho' 10:08 pm</p><p>George<br/>'LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLL'<br/>'stop where'd you get that picture of us? 🤪'<br/>'you weren't supposed to know............. 😩😩' 10:09 pm</p><p>"Dude... I forgot that was my—" I start, then my mind drifts as he keeps scrolling. </p><p>Shitass<br/>'CROCODILE HUNTER ABSOLUTELY DECIMATES FLORIDA MAN OUTSIDE OF 7/11' 12:41 am</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'HAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH'<br/>'NO UR FUCKING JOKING'<br/>'NO WAY' <br/>'IS THAT FR DREAM???????' 12:43 am</p><p>George<br/>'WHAT? WHAT?'<br/>'he did WHAT?' <br/>'who even LET this happen??' 12:44 am</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'YOU SLEPT THT MFER'<br/>'DREAM CHILL'<br/>'invite me next time 😈' 12:44 am</p><p>George<br/>'SIT BITCH!!!!! 🤬😡🤬😡'<br/>'WHAT HAPPENED?' 12:45 am</p><p>'HELLO?' 1:02 am</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'theyre lagging'<br/>'theyve disconnected' <br/>'theyre gone, george'<br/>'hold me were alone forever now 😱' 1:03 am</p><p>George<br/>'are ONE of u going to respond or?????' 1:17 am</p><p>I giggle as he reaches the bottom of the messages. "What are you gonna tell 'em?" I ask.</p><p>Clay huffs, shaking his head. "I dunno. I don't—" He starts, and I lean forward grabbing for his phone.</p><p>Dream<br/>'sorry he was busy 😏' 3:04 am</p><p>Clay laughs, taking the phone right back from me as it sends, then types his own explanation.</p><p>Dream<br/>'that wasn't me in the video'<br/>'that was my alter ego'<br/>'the coochie man 😎' 3:05 am</p><p>I snort a laugh right along with him. The texts immediately start rolling in.</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'dude that was actually so fucking sick though'<br/>'what happened man?' 3:05 am</p><p>George<br/>'yeah that was clean'<br/>'are you guys alright then?' 3:06 am</p><p>Dream<br/>'yeah all good for now'<br/>'thx for concern'<br/>'long story that for legal reasons i will not be typing out xD' 3:06 am</p><p>George<br/>'😳 wonder where you went for a few hours...' 3:07 am</p><p>I lean forward, making grabby hands for the phone immediately. "Nothing too gross, c'mon baby." He says, laughing. </p><p>Dream<br/>'sap ur right dream is sick'<br/>'he tested positive for COCKBIG-19 🥵' 3:07 am</p><p>Clay snorts a laugh, shaking his head again. "You're such a dumbass." </p><p>George<br/>'what'<br/>'Go away.'<br/>'put dream back were not done speaking'  3:07 am</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'cockbig19?'<br/>'proof? 👀' 3:08 am</p><p>George<br/>'proof? 👀'<br/>'proof? 👀'<br/>'proof? 👀' 3:08 am</p><p>Sapnap<br/>'proof? 👀'<br/>'wheres THAT video? 😏' 3:08 am</p><p>Clay laughs, locking his phone and tossing it. "Nice. Now I have to deal with that." He says, still, he's grinning.</p><p>I giggle, scratching his jaw again. "You were saying something about a song?" I say, back to that conversation. </p><p>He briefly hums. "Yeah— I don't wanna be on my phone, now, though. Get yours out."</p><p>I pat my pocket, though I know it isn't there. "It's in the car." I say.</p><p>Clay tilts his head back to look at me. "Well go get it."</p><p>I pout, but listen, unhooking my legs from his shoulders and lifting myself to standing. I wobble for just a second, before I steady myself and make my way to his car, popping into the backseat. I find my phone sitting there, and the bag of candy... and a small flower.</p><p>I walk back over, toss down the bag of candy and lay down next to Clay, with my head on his chest, then pass him my phone. I tell him my password and settle in. I lift both hands to his hair, parting a chunk, and run my fingers through it. I smile as I lift the flower, and tie it in. He doesn't even notice what I'm doing, singularly focused on searching Spotify. </p><p>"It's— not on Spotify, hold on." He says, and switches to Youtube. </p><p>Once finished with the flower, I grab myself a piece of candy, just waiting for him to be done, rubbing my cheek to his chest. </p><p>"This." Clay says, and I perk up just in time to see 'nuts - Lil Peep'. </p><p>I immediately laugh, turning to hide my face in his neck. "Not the Peep— Clay." I chastise, as he laughs back.</p><p>"No— I know it's lame but just hear me out, right?" He continues, defending himself. </p><p>It's super corny, but I smile into his chest, pushing the candy around in my mouth, listening along with him. It goes for a moment, and I just enjoy the music, not thinking too deep. </p><p>"This part." Clay mumbles, and I actually focus.</p><p>Girl, you know you make my cold heart warm with a touch<br/>One kiss, then we fuckin', I just can't get enough</p><p>I roll my eyes. Like... yeah. True. I guess.</p><p>Put it on me, that's the best part, baby, the trust<br/>Trust me, I got nothin' for you other than love</p><p>I make a noise, moving to hide in Clay's neck. "Corn ball alert." I say, soft, though I feel the affection bloom as the song plays through. </p><p>I remember eatin' pussy on the back of the bus</p><p>"Oh? Couldn't be you." I say, smiling. "You were too busy playing Minecraft on your laptop—" </p><p>Clay groans, wrapping his arms around me to squeeze me. </p><p>"Well... maybe I could've been if either one of us had been honest with the other." He says.</p><p>I smile where I'm pressed. "Hey! I was... nervous." I say back, and he laughs for that. </p><p>I relax as I feel Clay's hand rubbing my back in a soothing motion as the song ends. I decide I'll be lame right back.</p><p>"I think he has other songs that suit us better." I start, back on my bullshit. </p><p>"Yeah? Which?" He asks. </p><p>"Look up feelz." I say, leading, and he does. </p><p>Clay plays it, then glances at me, almost concerned as the lyrics roll in.</p><p>"Not yet, not yet." I mumble, waiting.</p><p>Now!</p><p>"Would you fuck me right on the floor?" I sing along with the song.</p><p>Clay immediately groans, locking my phone and dropping it, though the song keeps playing. I giggle wildly as he flips us and pins me, thrashing underneath of him. </p><p>His mouth lands on my neck, nipping at the skin there like it's a punishment. My hands dart up to hold his shoulders as he lifts, staring down at me. His brows furrow, eyes flicking to the side, and he suddenly notices the flower. </p><p>Clay lifts a hand, pulling it out of his hair and looking at it, expression melting into something tender before he even looks back at me, shaking his head. He takes the flower, tucks it into my hair, then cups my cheek.</p><p>"God I'm happy it's you." He says, incredibly soft, in a way that makes my heart thump. He leans in, pressing a chaste kiss, then pulls back, staying close enough we share breath. "Literally no one else for me but you." He says, then presses another kiss.</p><p>That one makes everything go warm. I lift both hands, dragging them up to Clay's face, cradling it. He pulls back enough that we can stare at each other. I squeeze his face with my hands, not thinking, and he inhales, sharp. </p><p>"Ah— sorry." I say, quick, realizing I was pressing right on a bruise.</p><p>"S'all good." He mumbles back, turning his face to kiss my palm. </p><p>We spend a few moments in silence, just staring, holding each other, lost in the tenderness of the moment. The intensity makes it... hard to breathe. So I break it.</p><p>"So how about it?" I ask.</p><p>"How about what?" He asks back, with a soft smile.</p><p>"Would you fuck me right on the floor?" I sing again, lifting my hips to bump against his stomach. "C'mon coochie man show me your—"</p><p>Clay interrupts me with a kiss hard enough my head tilts back, and he shifts up my body, landing between my legs, rolling against me. </p><p>"Less than 15 minutes." He mumbles against my mouth. "You made it less than 15 minutes." He says, chastising, but his hand is making it's way back up the hoodie. </p><p>I smile, incredibly pleased with myself. </p><p>We go until dawn, and then some. Until Clay is shooting fucking blanks. We're both exhausted, sweaty, overspent by the time we stop. Then, we finally go home.</p><p>We wrap up just the same in my bed, hands all over each other like it's the best feeling in the world to just touch. And, maybe it is. I know Clay has to leave, and I likely won't see him for a couple weeks, so I'm taking everything I can get.</p><p>Happy Halloween to me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. can’t wait (fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I walk into my apartment, drop my keys, go straight for my bed, slam myself in, and wrap up in a blanket. For comfort, I also grab the crocodile plushie from Clay's Halloween costume that he left. Mine now.</p><p>That was an insane Monday. </p><p>I got to class, immediately got pulled from class by the fucking police. Then interviewed by the fucking police. </p><p>Did I tell the truth? No, not even a little.</p><p>Sorry officer! I don't recognize that man! I was just there! The guy he beat up was super drunk and harassing me, though!</p><p>Surprisingly enough, Matt had been BAC tested, was way over the legal limit, and for that— the case is likely to get dropped before anything can come of it.</p><p>Thank God.</p><p>Still, I'm calling Clay. </p><p>"Hey, baby, I was just about to—" He starts, but I interrupt. </p><p>"You will not believe this shit—" </p><p>I explain it to him, and Clay hums. </p><p>"Lying to the pigs? You're such a bad girl." He says the second I'm done, voice low, laughing.</p><p>I smile for that, "I'd never snitch on you, daddy." </p><p>I hear him laugh back, then there's a moment of silence before he speaks again. </p><p>"Funny thing. Uh— I was about to call you. I actually..." Clay pauses for a moment, "Call me back on FaceTime." He says, and hangs up.</p><p>I knit my brow in confusion, but call him right back. As soon as he picks up and I see the video I gasp.</p><p>"No—"</p><p>"Yeaaaah—"</p><p>"Is it from the fight? Is it gonna be okay?" I ask, feeling horrible. Clay's right wrist is in a cast. </p><p>"Yes and yes. Just a fracture. Doc said it'll need just a couple weeks and it should be healed up." He says.</p><p>"I'm— I'm so— I'm so sorry—" I stutter out, leg jittering, curling in on myself. "Does it— can you still speedrun and play and—"</p><p>Clay hums. "Yeah. Fingers are all good. It doesn't even... hurt really. I only noticed because it started to swell up."</p><p>I exhale some of the tension. "Oh thank God. I was gonna cry if I actually screwed you over like that." </p><p>"Not your fault, baby. I made that choice." Clay says back.</p><p>It makes me smile, soft, private. "It's a little my fault." </p><p>"No." He cuts in, voice sounding absolutely final. "It's not. You can't blame yourself for the popularization of lack of consent in this mysoginistic socio-economic patriarchal—" </p><p>I moan.</p><p>Clay stops, laughing, flipping the camera to his face, grinning. "Yeah?" </p><p>"Yeah. Keep using big words, daddy. I'm your stupid bimbo whore bitch. I'll spread my legs for your IQ." I tease.</p><p>He snorts a laugh. "Effervescent." </p><p>I moan, wanton, loud as I can, arching in my bed. "Daddy—! Chill!" </p><p>"Open those legs. It's 195 and throbbing." He says back, playing right along.</p><p>I keep moaning, biting my lip. "Oh my God— oh my God— it barely fits— ah— slower daddy, it's so big." </p><p>"You'll need a WAP to handle this IQ baby— just hold on for me—" He continues.</p><p>"Ah— I already squirted... I'm sowwy..." I say, biting my lip so I don't laugh. </p><p>"Good." Is all Clay says back, and I break, yelling before devolving into laughter. </p><p>He laughs right back, beaming. It makes my chest go warm, acting like idiots like this. Things have been feeling so... serious, lately, after Matt, both of us realizing how deep we're in. Deep to the point of getting into a physical fight outside of a gas station, at least. </p><p>"So you're home now?" Clay asks, breaking the goofy energy.</p><p>"Mhm. Just got here." I say back.</p><p>"...and are you free?"</p><p>I bite my lip, curious to where this is going. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?" Hopefully somewhere south or...</p><p>"Our RLCraft game is collecting dust. I never even got to slay a dragon." He says.</p><p>Oh. "Yeah? Let's fix that then." I say, swinging up to sitting then hopping into my desk chair. This sounds nice, too. </p><p>Do I make the executive decision to stay up until 3 am playing the 'craft with my mans until we both have full dragon scale armor when I have an 8 am class tomorrow? That's a secret I'll never tell. </p><p>***</p><p>The week is interesting to say the least. I brace myself when I return to class Tuesday, wondering if I'll have to face down Matt, but to my pleasant surprise, he's absent all week. Though, I'm thankful to not have the distraction. There's only 3 weeks before Thanksgiving break, meaning work is piling on and up hard. </p><p>It's Saturday, and I'm still at home, alone, Clay busy with MCC stuff, and me supposed to be doing my homework. I'm not. I'm folded up in bed, scrolling TikTok like it's my 9-5.</p><p>I startle when I get a call from my dad. I immediately decline it, then go to text him.</p><p>'sorry, busy right now' 11:07 am</p><p>I don't expect the chime of a voicemail quickly after. I go to listen to it. It starts off sharp, loud, him yelling my name. My full name. I briefly flinch, pulling the phone back until the volume lowers. </p><p>"—it has been MONTHS since we've seen you! Weeks since you've called! And I find out from Clay's MOTHER that you were in town a few weeks ago? Just at the store? Hanging out?" He continues.</p><p>Oof. Big. Fucking. Oof. </p><p>I lift a nail to my mouth, chewing it as he chews me out via voicemail. The second it's over, I steady myself, take a breath, and call him back. </p><p>"Hey dad. I—" </p><p>"Do you have an explanation for yourself?" He immediately interrupts. </p><p>I squint, huffing. "Yeah. I'm an adult. I can choose to come visit just my friends." I say.</p><p>"Oh? You want me to die sad and alone in this big empty house?" He continues.</p><p>My eyes roll back in my head. "Stop. I'll literally be home in like... three weeks. School is genuinely taking up most of my time." </p><p>I hear his grumble. "I know you aren't that busy with school. Clearly not if you found the time to come home three weeks ago, huh? To visit some friends, right?" </p><p>I groan, fully hearing the accusatory tone in her voice. "Yep. To visit friends." I say, doubling down.</p><p>"I bet it was to visit that Clay. He's always been sniffing around you like a rabid dog. Every time you'd have a sleepover with his sister—" </p><p>I zone out, letting him go on the same tirade he's always gone on. Yadda yadda, boys want one thing. Yadda yadda, boys are evil and want to spoil my angel. Little does he know, I'm not the boy, but I am the one with the one-track mind. </p><p>I'm the one that ruined this friendship. </p><p>I check my nails, sighing, listening, feeling like I'm 16 instead of a fully functioning adult, again, until he's done. </p><p>"Okay. Uh, well, I'll be home in three weeks for Thanksgiving break so—" I try to start, but he dives right back in.</p><p>I huff, popping the phone on speaker and sitting at my computer to play a game to distract me until he sounds like he's done a second time. </p><p>"Well, Thankgiving break is in three weeks, anyways, so I'll—" I try. </p><p>"I bet you'll leave me during that, too. You'll barely even make it through dinner before you're off to that boy's house. I remember when you were 18 and—"</p><p>Time for another sigh. It's like an infinite loop. It's exhausting, but I finally make it through the conversation and hang up the call with promises to stay for most of break, dragging my hands down my face. I did have energy for today, but it's less, now. </p><p>Well, that changes some of Clay and I's plans. I call him, needing to discuss and replan. He answers.</p><p>"Hi." I start, already pouty before he can get a word in edgewise.</p><p>"Wha? Wha't's wrong?" He asks back, muffled.</p><p>I find myself smiling. "Were you asleep?" </p><p>"Hnnnn... yeah..." He mumbles back. "But I can talk... I'm wakin' up..." </p><p>I bite my lip to stifle a laugh, hearing how beat he sounds, wondering if he's only been sleeping a couple hours. "I've got some slightly bad news..." I continue.</p><p>"Hnnn?" He asks back, like that's a question.</p><p>I can't help that I let out the smallest laugh before I explain. "My dad's freakin' out about me never coming home, so I'm gonna be trapped in my house for most of Thanksgiving break. I can still probably come visit, but I'm not sure how likely it is that I'll be able to stay the night at all without causing world war three." </p><p>"Noooooooooooooo—" Clay immediately groans back. It makes me laugh again.</p><p>He sighs. "S'probably for the best, anyways. I'll be with my family a lot too. My ma was just asking if you're coming to our Thanksgiving, though." </p><p>I grimace, but don't respond otherwise.</p><p>"Baby?"</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Are you?"</p><p>I grimace again. "Depends on the time. I'll try, though." That's most of the truth. The other part of the truth is 'I dunno if that's a good idea big man, especially with how we've been acting around eachother, lately'.</p><p>"Okay." He mumbles back, sounding drowsy again. "Me go sleep." </p><p>"Bye then—" I start, but he hops back in.</p><p>"Wait, shit. Am I coming up for your birthday?" He asks. "S'less than a week away, already." </p><p>I worry my lip, thinking on it. "Maybe not. Probably not. Schools gonna be... insane."</p><p>Clay groans again. "We'll celebrate down here later, then. The Big 21. Exciting how you'll be having your very first drink—" </p><p>I sit up for that, wandering toward my kitchen. It's 11 am, but a drink sounds good, especially after all of that. "Oh my God! That's gonna be crazy to—" I stop, throwing back a shot, smacking my lips. "—take my first shot." I finish, then grab a coke to wash the taste down. </p><p>"Yeah?" Clay asks, humored. "Well I guess I oughta buy a whole bottle to celebrate. You think you can slip free just one night...?"</p><p>I drag my tongue along my lower lip. "I'll just tell him I have to come back for the weekend to work."</p><p>He laughs for that, low, soft. "Sounds like a plan to me." </p><p>There's silence for a second, where we revel in our stupid plans, before Clay's speaking again.</p><p>"Ughhhhh. Me go bed." He grumbles out. </p><p>I'm smiling when I reply. "Night. Love you, bye—" </p><p>"Noooo—" He coos out again, making me pause. "Keep me on call. I love listening to your little noises." </p><p>I scrunch my face up. "Noises? I make noises? I do not make noises." </p><p>Clay chuckles. "You do. When you stretch, and when you settle, and when you get into something... It's quiet, but it's there." </p><p>I feel embarrassed for that. I didn't know. But, I believe him. </p><p>"How's this?" I ask, then lay down with my phone on my chest, blowing right into the mic.</p><p>It makes Clay laugh, at least. "Perfect." He mumbles, and it almost sounds like he's telling the truth.</p><p>I roll my eyes, pulling my phone back to a normal position, and stay on call with him. It's worth it to hear the noises he makes right back.</p><p>***</p><p>The weekend and next week are uneventful, me genuinely having to focus on school.</p><p>On Wednesday, the day before my birthday, I have a case of deja vu. There's a knock. There's a package. I drag it in. My name's on it. This time, I know it's from Clay, and I know it's for my birthday. </p><p>I take a picture and send it right to him. </p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>2 New Messages<br/>'shit'<br/>'it said it would get there tomorrow' 4:48 pm</p><p>'thats okay i dont mind an early present 😋' 4:49 pm</p><p>'do not open it.'<br/>'wait! the! single! day!' 4:49 pm</p><p>'uh ohhhhh im gonna get into it'<br/>'oh 😜 noooooo 😜 im 😜 gonna 😜 open 😜 it' 4:49 pm</p><p>'&gt;:(((' 4:49 pm</p><p>It makes me laugh for a moment, before I have an even better idea. I open the camera on my phone and start to record. I kneel to the floor and run my fingers along the tape seaming the package together, touching feather-light with just the tips. </p><p>"I'm touching your huge fucking package, daddy... it's so... big... and tempting..." I say, breathy, then pick until I lift a single corner of the tape.</p><p>I stop after that, and send him him the video.</p><p>'ngl to u my dick jumped.' 4:51 pm</p><p>I immediately laugh.</p><p>'down boy!!!'<br/>'⤵️⤵️⤵️' 4:51 pm</p><p>'😩 not up?'<br/>'not up boy?'<br/>'say up boy, baby please' 4:51 pm</p><p>I'm beaming as I text back, loving the way we tease.</p><p>'Clayton. I'm issuing a cease and desist. ✋😡'</p><p>'*starts barking at u*' 4:51 pm</p><p>'im gonsa delete ur contnact'<br/>'i cant take a secomd more of this'<br/>'my dad was right when he called u a rabid dog' 4:52 pm</p><p>'gonsa'<br/>'contnact'<br/>'secomd' 4:52 pm</p><p>I roll my eyes, huffing at the reply, and go to type something out. Before I can take the time to draft something, Clay calls. I answer, startled when instead of hello, he immediately starts barking into the mic.</p><p>I groan. "Ugh. Can someone come muzzle this chihuahua? I was just sitting here and it started pissing on my leg."</p><p>I hear Clay make a noise of protest. "WHAT? Chihuahua? I'd be a big dog." </p><p>"Oh yeah, of course, big man." I say, then cover my next words with a cough. "Chihuahua energy." </p><p>"Oh, come on. You know I'd be—" </p><p>"C'mon yourself." I say back, before he can finish. </p><p>"Stop being a brat." He grumbles out, suddenly sounding somewhat serious, annoyed.</p><p>It makes me grin. "Sorry, master. Did I speak without permission? I'll be a good kitten from—" I start, voice small, mewly.</p><p>"Stop that." Clay says, so I do, going silent for a moment before I start whimpering and whining. "Stop. Before I put that shock collar around your neck. Stop."</p><p>I can't help that I burst into laughter. "Bet." Is what I say back, all I say back.</p><p>I hear Clay sigh, and can tell he's shaking his head at me, even though I can't see it. I don't think much before I speak again. </p><p>"I assign you Rottweiler, actually." I say, just barely thinking about it. </p><p>"Wh— in what world?" He asks back, fast.</p><p>I hum. "Hear me out. Seems sometimes scary and cool. Is actually just big, protective, loyal, and sweet. Ushy gushy baby."</p><p>Clay makes a noise of disgust. "No. Flat out no." </p><p>I keep going. "Nope! You're a Rottweiler. All I have to do is scratch between the ears to get everlasting loyalty and a puddle of a man." </p><p>He huffs. "Yeah? You're the actual chihuahua. Absolutely all fucking bark." </p><p>I split into a grin. "Oh? I'm all bark? Do I need to tie you to a chair and edge you again or—" </p><p>Finally, Clay starts laughing again. "Wh— why— how—"</p><p>I run my tongue along my teeth, smug. "Who are we even kidding? We're both cats. Put the cat ears on and dance for me catboy, dance." </p><p>"Grovel on your knees. I told you ten minutes. You got your ten minutes." He says back, trying to be serious, but fighting a laugh the whole time.</p><p>I pout. "I never even got my picture..." I say, whining.</p><p>"Sounds like a you problem." He retorts.</p><p>I keep pouting. "I'll go and get us into another fight just so you have to wear it again and make it up to me." </p><p>"Yeah?" He starts, sounding humored. "What'll you do? What's our fight?"</p><p>I pause, thinking, for just a moment. "You never have time for me... you're always playing video games.." I start, teasing, mumbly and small.</p><p>Clay chuckles. "Yeah? Am I? I'm not sorry." </p><p>"You should spend that time with me instead..." I mumble.</p><p>"Nah." Clay's answer is immediate.</p><p>"Give me the attention I want or I'll piss on the carpet, since I'm a chihuahua, apparently." </p><p>"Nah." He says back again.</p><p>I break for that, laughing again, which cascades into him laughing as well. It's... embarrassing how much time we spend like this. Me, cradling my phone like something precious, beaming, laid out flat on my floor.</p><p>At least I can be with his voice.</p><p>***</p><p>I open the present the once it's technically my birthday because I am capable of waiting, but only a little.</p><p>It's goofy. But it's perfect. </p><p>It's a small framed print of an illustration of me and Patches, a hoodie of his merch (this part makes me laugh), an entire fucking flat of Arizona's, and a card which reads:</p><p>'Hey,<br/>I know this present isn't the best. But it's mostly just buffer. I still have your real gift here. You'll just have to come get it. <br/>— :)'</p><p>It makes me feel... fuzzier than fuzzy. So I text.</p><p>'🥺🥺🥺'<br/>'opened the gift'<br/>'i swear to god ill cry'<br/>'dont tempt me'<br/>'it is the best'<br/>'i dont need more' 12:07 am</p><p>':)'<br/>'kinda too late'<br/>'already bought it' 12:08 am</p><p>I smile for that, already putting the hoodie on and going to my room. I flop into my bed and curl up with the crocodile plushie again. You know what? I really might cry.</p><p>'if it's expensive i hope there's a return policy' 12:08 am</p><p>I'm surprised when he doesn't respond for moment.</p><p>'.........................'<br/>'it's not' 12:10 am</p><p>My mouth parts in surprise.</p><p>'dead ass? clay????'<br/>'who do u think i am? 🙄🙄🙄'<br/>'u cant buy my love 💔'<br/>'i REQUIRE cock and balls 😩😜' 12:11 am</p><p>'i just said it's not'<br/>'...............'<br/>'shut tf up' 12:11 am</p><p>I have to stifle a laugh, going to Reddit to pick up a copypasta and sending that instead of a real response, trying to choke back my quickly overwhelming emotions.</p><p>'hey you 🦃turkey🦃 lurkey slut👅👅. it's 🍂HOEvember🍂. you know what that means❓ 🕖time🕐 to gobble👏 gobble👏 gobble👏 on a big ol😜😜 dick👌💋. back in 1️⃣4️⃣9️⃣2️⃣, our main bitch💁💁 Christopher Columbus👦🏻 and those slutty👙👠 pilgrims🏊🏊 had to 💦💦cum💦💦 2️⃣ America⛵️⛵️⛵️⚓️ in search🕵 of new dicks to suck🐓🐓🐓. send this to 1️⃣0️⃣ of your sluttiest pilgrim 🌽🌽 bitches or you won't get any 💦gravy💦 this year. Get 5️⃣ back and you're a mashed potato hoe😟😟. get 1️⃣0️⃣ back and you're a sexy stuffing slut😽😽. happy 🦃cock🐓 gobbling👄 thursday' 12:12 am</p><p>'ive never been as straight-faced as i was reading that.' 12:13 am</p><p>That makes me split into a grin, happy to reclaim a less sappy energy. </p><p>'tell me im funny and pretty'<br/>'or ur dicks never going in me again' 12:13 am</p><p>'HA HA 😂😂 DEADASS NO CAP 🤣🤣 U GOT ME ROLLLING 🔥 🔥 🔥 FAT ON A STACK 😂🤣😂 LMAOOO ‼️⁉️ ON GOD LMFAOO 😂🤣' 12:14 am</p><p>I start to giggle for that, beaming at my phone.</p><p>'and?' 12:14 am</p><p>'oh and you're pretty'<br/>'so when do i collect?' 12:15 am</p><p>'ill see you friday'<br/>'ill stop by before i go home'<br/>'our little secret' 12:15 am</p><p>'can't wait :)' 12:15 am</p>
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<a name="section0037"><h2>37. yep. rock. (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>'wore ur merch to class today! everyone loved it so much that they actually jumped me outside of the classroom, pummeling me and breaking every bone in my body! im currently comatose and my doctor says i'll be dead in 2 days, love ur content, keep up the good work!' 8:21 am</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>
3 New Messages<br/>
'L'<br/>
'id beat u up too'<br/>
'what time u gonna get here?' 8:22 am</p><p>It's Friday morning, and I've already made the executive decision to surprise Clay. He knows I'm going to be coming over today. He just doesn't know what time.</p><p>So I send back:</p><p>':-)' 8:22 am</p><p>And nothing else. </p><p>I remember the last time I drove to see him, Discord snitched on me for my... choices on Spotify. So, I use that as a way to communicate, wondering if he'll even notice it. </p><p>I play a queue with great titles, including but not limited to: 'Just the Two of Us'.</p><p>***</p><p>I'm humming along to 'Closer' as I pull into his driveway. I assume that he'll have seen me or figured it out by this point, so I don't bother to hide my car. I tap the code in, and slip in the front door, beaming.</p><p>"Honey, I'm home!" I call out.</p><p>I'm very surprised to be greeted by silence. I furrow my brow and start to move deeper into his house, poking my head into his kitchen. Still nothing. Weird. </p><p>Patches actually approaches me first, trilling as she threads between my legs, coming from a random back room. I smile as I scoop her up. </p><p>"Hey big girl. I missed you too." I coo, then bump her forehead before pulling back and staring at her.</p><p>"Where's daddy at?" I ask her, like she can answer. She purrs in response. </p><p>I hum, wondering if he's maybe just asleep, and turn to head upstairs, keeping Patches cradled. </p><p>"We're having a manhunt right now." I say, continuing to talk to Patches like I'm psychotic. </p><p>I get upstairs, and poke my head into Clay's room. Still, nothing. Fucking weird. Patches wiggles, so I drop her off. As I think about turning, something lands on my waist, heavy, squeezing me hard enough to hurt. I scream as I'm lifted, and start to thrash, panic rising in my stomach.</p><p>"L-let me go—" I stutter out, voice raised, planting my hands on the hands on me and digging in with my nails. </p><p>"Got you." I hear familiar laughter rumbling from behind me, and quickly start to relax again. </p><p>"Clay— c'mon—" I say, voice still raised, whiny. </p><p>He lowers me back to standing, but only wraps me tighter, burying his face in my neck from behind. I lift a hand, curling it into his hair, cupping the back of his head. </p><p>"Maybe let's not run up and cold grab the girl that got assaulted twice this month." I mumble, still slightly freaked. </p><p>Suddenly Clay's squeezing a lot tighter, shifting to completely wrap me in his arms, pressing us flush. It's silent for a moment, us wrapped up, rocking together, before he pulls back. I turn to face him, seeing his expression is soft, relaxed, tired. </p><p>I walk up, burying myself right back in his chest. "Sleep yet?" I ask, muffled by his shirt.</p><p>"A little. I knew when you'd show up so I set an alarm and stuff. Couldn't let you get away with trying to surprise me unpunished." He says back.</p><p>I tilt my face up, smiling, lift to my tiptoes, press a kiss to the corner of Clay's lips, then pull back. It makes everything go warm to watch the way his expression melts into a smile as well. His hands lift, cupping my face, but neither of us makes a move, just staring at each other. It's sappy, gross... nice. </p><p>"Hey." He says, soft.</p><p>"Hey, big man." I say right back. </p><p>"Wanna go get your gift with me? It's downstairs." He asks, and I'm already ready to be annoying.</p><p>I pout my lip. "You mean it's not up here in bed— AH!" I get interrupted as Clay lifts me, laughing, heading right out of his room. </p><p>"Clay how's your day been? It's been good, Clay, thanks for asking. Anytime Clay I love talking to you and having conversations." He half-grumbles.</p><p>I keep laughing, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling back to look at his expression. He looks mad, but I can see he's fighting a smile, crinkle in the corner of his eye. </p><p>"Good morning. How's your day?" I ask, as soft and warm as I can manage. </p><p>His expression melts for a moment, eyes flicking over to meet mine. "I mean it's better now that—"</p><p>"AHT—" I interrupt, cracking into a grin. "Take your dick out. I'm talking to h— AH—" </p><p>Clay lifts me even higher, throwing me over his shoulder. I keep laughing, now kicking my legs excitedly. </p><p>"Are we going back to your cave? Gonna show me some rock drawings? Maybe smash some bones together?" I tease.</p><p>Clay just starts making monkey noises, and my brow draws tight, feeling somewhat hysterical. He continues all the way downstairs, until he flops me down on the couch, and walks away. I keep giggling, collecting myself, sitting up. I fold myself into a corner, hanging over the arm of the couch.</p><p>As I wait, Patches hops up next to me. So I turn, scoop her up, and sit like normal, scratching her cheeks, baby-talking her. Clay reappears after a minute, holding two things. One, a bottle of of Ciroc, two, a small wrapped box. </p><p>"Uh—huh..." I start, staring. </p><p>He sits himself down, smacking the bottle onto his coffee table probably too hard. He presses close, but his eyes are caught on Patches. </p><p>"Were you guys talking? I hope she didn't spoil the surprise." He says, teasing.</p><p>I hum. "Nah. We were busy discussing the merits of a worker's union." </p><p>Clay's brows lift, a smile starting to form. "Yeah? What's your leverage and demand?" </p><p>"We will be withholding pussy in all forms. Unless we get some goddamn—" </p><p>Clay interrupts me by cupping my face, and leaning in. My breath hitches, as I watch his gaze flit between my mouth and my eyes. </p><p>"Can I still have a kiss? Or does that violate the terms of your union?" He asks.</p><p>I blink, particularly slow, brain catching up before I manage to nod into his palm. He leans in, and kisses. It's soft, chaste. It feels like no more than a greeting, but it melts me never-the-less. He holds it until Patches chirps from where she's sandwiched between us. </p><p>Clay pulls back, laughing, looking at her instead while I stay melted. He scoops her, and takes her with him. </p><p>"You want some too?" He asks, then cradles her while she headbutts his face. </p><p>I get caught staring, knowing my mouth is open, feeling like I can't breathe as I watch. It's fucking cute. Clay breaks into a grin, then winks at me, and it's like I can remember to function again. </p><p>"That was smooth. We've disbanded the union." I say, quickly, and he starts to laugh.</p><p>"What was my time on that? Was that world record?" He asks, grinning.</p><p>I roll my eyes. "For what? Union disbandment? You think that's in the record books?" </p><p>"If it's not I can put it there." He says right back, looking awfully smug. </p><p>Patches meows again, suddenly wanting down, so Clay lets her. I lean forward into his space, until I can get my head on his shoulder. There's a second where we just appreciate the moment, his arm wrapped around my lower back holding tight, before his other hand presses forward with the present.</p><p>I... understand his language is gift giving. And I understand that it's literally for my birthday. But, I can easily get overwhelmed by things like this. It's a fight to not flat out refuse the gift, no matter how rude I know that would be. </p><p>So I swallow my words, smile, and take it. I can hear my own heart thudding in my ears as I open it up. I peel back the wrapping, get to the box. Open it. A ring stares back at me. </p><p>I immediately pout my lip, feeling gushy. </p><p>"Clay..." I mumble, unable to look up. </p><p>I watch as his hand darts forward into my vision, almost grabbing it before he pauses. </p><p>"Do you want me to put it on? Or would you—" He starts. </p><p>I immediately start nodding. "Yeah. You can put it on." I say soft. </p><p>Clay lifts it, and I push a hand forward. He handles it with both of his hands. "Which finger you want it on?" He asks, laughing. </p><p>"Index or ring. Up to you." I reply.</p><p>Clay hums. "It's your hand. But I mean like— ring finger, right?" He asks with a small laugh, then slips it on. It's a little big, but I don't think it will fall off.</p><p>I finally manage to look up his face, seeing he's cheesing, and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. </p><p>"Oh my God, we're married now..." I say, teasing, watching him immediately roll his eyes. </p><p>"What? C'mon." He starts, but his voice is still affectionate. He shakes the thought, and starts rambling, obviously nervous. "I thought it was kinda funny... it's obsidian and diamond. Plus I thought it was kinda cool that it's all black and—" </p><p>"Diamond?" I interject, brows raising, lifting my hand to look at it. </p><p>"Yeah." He mumbles back. </p><p>I give him a searching look, feeling small, almost scared, overwhelmed. "How much?" I ask, quiet. </p><p>Clay huffs, grabbing me and reeling me into his lap, holding me tight. "Doesn't matter." He says. </p><p>I feel myself only get more stiff, as much as I try to fight the sinking feeling of guilt. "Clay— I— it's so stupid to spend your money on me— I—" </p><p>He interrupts with a grunt. "Key phrase there, my money. It's mine, my choice. I'm a grown fucking man. I can do what I want." He says, voice low, tight.</p><p>I turn, searching his face. "I just— I don't want you to feel like I'm—" </p><p>Clay interrupts again. "Spare me the speech. All I need to know is if you like it." </p><p>I whine, nodding, turning my entire body until I'm straddling his lap with my face pressed into his neck. "Yeah. I feel..." I swallow the words, curling my hands into his shirt at his chest. "I feel really special. Thank you." I mumble out. </p><p>Clay's hands land on my waist, holding me as tight as I'm trying to hold him. "Then that's all that matters, yeah?" He says, and kisses my forehead. </p><p>"I might cry." I warn, and hear Clay start chuckling. </p><p>He pulls me back, searching my face with a genuine smile, cupping my cheek before leaning in and slotting our mouths together. The pace is soft, the movements of our mouths affection-filled, slow, genuinely enjoying the moment as we press together. </p><p>I feel Clay's lips quirk into a proud smile as I sigh into his mouth, melting. He pulls back just enough to travel, kissing the corner of my lips, then down to my chin, my jaw, and finally landing on my neck. There, his mouth starts to get more demanding, nipping at the skin, tongue hot as it swipes out to taste.</p><p>I shiver, lifting both hands to card them into his hair. "No bruises this time, daddy." I warn, and Clay pulls back to laugh. </p><p>"We're gonna cold open with daddy, then?" He asks, shaking his head. </p><p>I tug him back toward my neck, tilting my head back to give him better access. He accepts immediately, whole-heartedly, latching himself onto my neck and working the skin like it's easy. I sigh, contented, eyes fluttering as they roll back into my head from the sensation.</p><p>I roll my hips once, and Clay's arms both move, wrapping me tighter, pulling me closer, holding me in place as he rolls himself right back. He exhales against my neck, warm, tickling the skin there. It makes my stomach go tight for just a moment, thighs tensing. </p><p>As I let out my first moan, there's a knock at the door. We immediately freeze, heads snapping toward the noise.</p><p>"What the fuck?" Clay asks, squinting, looking lost. </p><p>I also furrow my brow, just as confused. I hop out of his lap, breaking our contact to settle in at his side. To our surprise, his door handle turns. </p><p>Clay's immediately up, walking right at it, when it swings open. We both freeze as we see his mom is standing there. Her eyes dart between us, knowing in the way a mother's eyes are, before they settle on me. </p><p>"Hey hon, didn't expect to find you here already. Did Clay already ask you about Thursday?" She asks, as she walks inside.</p><p>My mouth flounders, brain totally at a loss for words. I stand up, and grab the bottle of Ciroc, laughing awkwardly. "Yeah! Uh— yeah we um— yeah Clay was just gifting me my birthday gift!" I stutter out, brandishing the bottle then going silent.</p><p>He eyebrows climb. "I asked about Thankgiving?" She says, sounding somewhat amused at my idiocy.</p><p>"Y-yeah— we— I said I probably can I'm just—" </p><p>"Good! I'm always excited to see more guests." She says, grinning.</p><p>"You mean victims." Clay mumbles out, shifting awkwardly on his feet.</p><p>I make one second of desperate, apologetic eye-contact with him before I'm shuffling toward the door.</p><p>"Well! I got my gift! I should head home just to make sure that I don't worry my folks!" I say, falsely innocent. I bolt out the door before anyone can get a word in edgewise.</p><p>I've got the bottle in my trunk, one leg in my front door, before I hear Clay.</p><p>"Wait up—" He says, sounding firm, and I look up to see him jogging out. </p><p>"What?" I start, "Did I forget something?" I ask.</p><p>"Yeah." He says right back.</p><p>I quickly check my finger and my person. Seemingly, I still have everything. I look at Clay, confused for just a second, before he has an arm around my waist tugging me flush to his body.</p><p>My breath hitches as he leans in, and slots our mouths together again. I expect the same soft pace, but that's not what I get. He immediately nips my lip, then pushes his tongue into my mouth. I make a noise, hands darting up to his shoulders to steady myself. </p><p>Clay's other hand lifts, almost like an instinct, and curls around my throat, holding me in place as he pushes deeper, tongue-fucking my mouth. This time, my noises are pathetic, thighs clenching, fingers digging in to hold tight. I almost forget to have shame. </p><p>Thankfully, he pulls back, smiling. Not as good, though, the hand around my throat readjusts until he can press his thumb into my mouth and hold it open. He looks awfully smug staring down at me, even though his face is red. </p><p>I flutter my eyes, feeling myself go lax, pliable. "Clay— c'mon. Not right now..." I start, soft, though I know I wouldn't stop it if he actually went back in.</p><p>Still, because he's a good man, he drops both hands immediately. And, because I'm a dumb whore, I pout a little.</p><p>Clay immediately laughs. "Yeah?"</p><p>I roll my eyes, then flip him off. He leans in, cupping my face, and presses one more chaste kiss to my forehead. </p><p>"See you soon." He mumbles as he pulls back. </p><p>All I can do is nod, still feeling somewhat breathless, then he's walking away, back inside, waving as he goes. I don't wave back. I just hop in my car, sit for one second, then rest my head on the steering wheel.</p><p>Big man really... drives me crazy. He's actually got me to the point where I was ready to drop to my knees, fully in public outside of his house. I shiver, feeling somewhat guilty, then finally sit up.</p><p>I find myself staring at my hands, realizing I'm fidgeting by spinning the ring around my finger restlessly. I shake my hands, trying to get myself to stop. I stare at the ring, feeling everything warm. It's genuinely beautiful, a carved obsidian band and a black diamond stone. </p><p>Damn. I should have just—</p><p>I shake the thought again. Then, I start my car and refocus. I need to just— go home before I hop out of this car and drag him out here with me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. r u... (plot, fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This week has been... something else. Mostly, the most boring thing I've ever experienced. It's Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, and I'm doing what I've been doing all week long.</p><p>I'm laying on the couch, in a Discord call with Clay, George, and Sapnap, half-watching, half-zoned out as they all play Minecraft. Clay's actually streaming to us, doing genuine speedruns, but the other two are just dicking around, playing pvp mini-games against each other. I would join that... but I'm fully on my laptop... laying down on a couch. I'd get my shit rocked.</p><p>Instead, I'm on my switch, slapping around in Stardew Valley, just trying to waste my time with something. </p><p>"Ooh. Village spawn." Clay says, quiet, and I briefly perk up to look, seeing he spawned next to a Savanna village. He quickly goes third person, jump running for it and looking around. We both oh as our eyes catch on a lava pool.</p><p>"RNG Gods please bless?" I say, quick, sitting up to pay attention.</p><p>"Let's go." George says, then, "GET OFF ME SAPNAP—" </p><p>Clay's completely focused on his mechanics, careful, rapid, and precise in his movements, doing what needs to be done.</p><p>"Good start." I mumble. "Clay's already sweating." I continue, with a soft laugh. </p><p>He laughs back, but his voice sounds distant, distracted. </p><p>"Is Dream popping off?" Sapnap asks.</p><p>"I mean. Good start. Gonna be in the Nether—" I lift my brows in surprise as Clay pops into a blacksmith chest and gets leggings, a helmet, and five iron ingots. "—soon." I say, finishing my sentence. </p><p>Suddenly, I'm as quiet as Clay, just watching in absolute fascination. His mechanics get even tighter. It's almost silent except the tap of his keyboard, George and Sapnap as distracted as me. </p><p>He's quick with the macro: beds, bucket, tools. It feels like the portal goes down before I can blink. As he steps into the Nether I glance at the time and see he's making an insane pace. He walks out into a Piglin biome, turns, and I can faintly see a Nether Fortress.</p><p>"Let's fucking go!" Yells Sapnap before the rest of us can say shit.</p><p>"Don't jinx it, don't jinx it!" I say, feeling my heart start to beat faster for Clay, who's beyond silent. </p><p>His movement is fast, collecting gold and going straight for the Fortress. There are a few moments where I forget myself and flinch as he blind jumps over gaps and block clutches himself each time. </p><p>It takes him a moment to find a blaze spawner, but as soon as he does my breath catches. I feel my eyes darting between his play and the timer, watching as his technical ability keeps cutting time. The blazes are being annoying, though, not spawning fast. </p><p>"Come on." Clay says, breathy, quiet, and my heart lurches for him. </p><p>It takes a moment longer than necessary, but he gets the number of rods needed and dips into the rest of the fortress, collecting gold, before he's back out, hunting for Piglins to trade. He doesn't have... a huge amount of gold. But, it could be enough. </p><p>He traps a Piglin for trades, drops his gold, and turns to mine more. He takes a second, then wraps back around to pick up his trades. I see the pearls before I know the count.</p><p>"Please." I whisper, mostly to myself, trying to not be a distraction. </p><p>Clay opens his inventory. 12 pearls.</p><p>"LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO!" George and Sapnap start shouting, and I giggle, wondering why I'm even bothering to stay quiet. </p><p>I keep glancing at the timer, watching as Clay gets even sweatier, mechanics nearly robotic. This is hard world record if the portal is in even a half-decent position, and we all know it. I start fidgeting with my ring, spinning it on my finger to distract from the nerves. I want to reassure him but... I feel like encouragement would honestly be more distracting than it's worth.</p><p>A simple 'you got this big man' could cost, if he isn't expecting it. </p><p>Clay's quick, sprinting back for his portal. But, there's a ghast hit. He's on gravel. The blocks update and fall. He falls into lava. I hear my breath hitch, but, he clutches it. He eats, running for his portal. He blows a tense breath. He's just under half, but on fire and still ticking.</p><p>My stomach goes tight enough to hurt, nerves affecting me probably more than they're affecting him. I keep watching his hunger and health bars, muscles drawn tight. He should survive. But, the fire keeps ticking, and his hunger stays full.</p><p>"Hello?" Clay says at two hearts, fire feeling like it's ticked longer than necessary, close to his portal.</p><p>"HELLO?" He says again, down to one heart, running into the portal, hand already on his bucket. </p><p>He loads into the overworld on half a heart and immediately places the water in the portal. It should be enough, on time. But, there's a stutter in the game, a perfectly timed moment of lag, and the fire ticks one more time as he drops the water a block higher.</p><p>It's gutting to watch. He dies. The water spreads, floating his items into residual exposed lava of the pool. The run is dead. </p><p>"FUCK!" Is all I hear from Clay, then the sound of hitting. And... what sounds like something mechanical breaking.</p><p>I flinch, a small noise of upset coming from my throat. </p><p>"I'm sorry. That's..." I start, quiet. </p><p>"Dude that fucking blows." Sapnap picks up for me. </p><p>"Yeah." I agree, as soft as I can. </p><p>"What the fuck." George tags on. </p><p>We're all a lot quieter than usual, trying to give Clay the space he needs to breathe and process. He was fucking... robbed, honestly. I don't hear anything else from him, but there's a chime, and I see him hang up the call. </p><p>I'm immediately concerned, going to type, seeing he's already typing.</p><p>Dream<br/>'headset is broken'<br/>'done for tn anyways.' 10:32 pm</p><p>I'm concerned, but don't type anything back.</p><p>"Okay. I'm gonna go too, boys." I say, quiet. </p><p>They both hum in acknowledgement and I hang up. I decide to give Clay space to cool off for now, but keep my volume on. It takes a little bit, but he texts.</p><p>Daddy Dream<br/>1 New Message<br/>'can I come pick you up?' 10:49 pm</p><p>I bite my lip as I respond, feeling myself ache for him. </p><p>'yeah of course' 10:49 pm</p><p>'ok im leaving'<br/>'be there in 10' <br/>':)' 10:50 pm</p><p>I smile for that, small, private. Clay's gotten fucked over like this during runs before, but... nothing was as on pace to be as insane of a record. Plus, he shouldn't have even died. It was lag, not a misplay.</p><p>I sit up quick, shutting my laptop down and saving my game. I swing to my feet, plug my laptop and switch in, then pad over to my shoes. They're barely on my feet when my dad starts talking. </p><p>"You're leaving?" He asks from where he's sitting on the other couch, watching some random ass Thanksgiving football movie. </p><p>"Yeah." I say back, quick. "Clay's picking me up. Wanted uh— to get some food." </p><p>My dad's brows lift. "At 11 at night?" </p><p>I roll my eyes. "His sleep schedule is weird. So is his meal schedule." </p><p>"Because of that Twitch thing, right?" My dad asks, sounding judgmental, and I sigh again. </p><p>"Yeah." I say back, quick. "I'll be home later." I continue, patting my cat Bear on his head quickly as I slip out my door. </p><p>I know Clay isn't here yet, but I don't want to get interrogated any further. I loiter on my porch, kicking my feet, scrolling social media and waiting. </p><p>It's been a few minutes when I see lights flash and startle, realizing Clay's already in my driveway. He smiles as he sees me look up, and flashes his lights again. I flip him off, but approach quickly, swinging myself into his passenger seat like I belong there. </p><p>"What are we doing?" I ask, voice bright, not sure what the mood is quite yet.</p><p>Clay lifts his hand and slams it down on my thigh with a slap, groping it and shaking my whole leg. </p><p>"Food and drive?" He asks, and I nod, covering his hand with mine. </p><p>He's quick, flipping his hand palm side up so I can thread our fingers together as he cranks the wheel, backing up. He does the same thing I've been constantly doing myself. He grabs the ring and starts spinning it around my finger, fidgeting with it. There's tension in his hand that I try to soothe out with my thumb.</p><p>It takes until we get to the first stop sign that I notice it's quiet. As I notice, Clay's leaning over, shoving the aux at me. </p><p>"Play somethin' pleeeeaase." He says.</p><p>I hold my phone in my mouth so I can snag the cord and pop it in without removing my hand from his. </p><p>"Vibe check?" I ask, still not sure what he needs from me. </p><p>Clay hums, chewing his cheek, looking like he's taking a moment to think. </p><p>"Anything?" He starts, then hesitates. "Nothing too... energetic. A hard breeze could piss me off right now."</p><p>I smile, wanting to act up, but save it for later. I tap 'Cupid's Chokehold' having heard it earlier today on TikTok. Clay smiles, turning to briefly look at me. </p><p>"This used to be such a banger in middle school." He says, laughing, then hums along with the song. </p><p>But momma, I fell in love again<br/>It's safe to say I have a new girlfriend</p><p>The line gets me another glance, and a smirk. I sneer back, squeezing his hand. </p><p>I mean she even cooks me pancakes<br/>And Alka Seltzer when my tummy aches<br/>If that ain't love then I don't know what love is</p><p>I get one more glance from Clay, before he squeezes my hand tight, lifting it, gesturing as he starts to sing along. I laugh, grin splitting my face as I melt, just listening to him. I make it moment before I'm singing right along with him, beaming, lost in the moment. </p><p>As the song comes to an end, both of us staring at each other at a stoplight, I realize I'm kicking my feet. Actually. I'm just... I'm happy. </p><p>There's a moment of silence as the song ends before the next song autoplays. I think Spotify auto-created a queue based on the song, because I don't know why else the next song would play. 'DONTTRUSTME'. </p><p>I snort a laugh, but Clay only beams more. "So we're doing nostalgia bangers?" He asks. </p><p>"It auto-played." I say right back, navigating to change it. </p><p>"No, no, no. I like it." He says, quick. "It's a vibe."</p><p>I glance at him, curious, then shrug. I generate a radio based on the initial song, and create a queue off of that. I lean in, resting my head on his shoulder, settling. </p><p>"Where we going?" I ask, seeing he's clearly navigating toward something. </p><p>He smiles, sly. "I know it's bad... but hear me out..." He starts, and my brows lift. </p><p>"Uh huh?" </p><p>"McDonald's?" </p><p>My brows go higher. </p><p>"I'm angry, c'mon." He says, and I laugh.</p><p>"I didn't say anything." I reply, smiling to myself.</p><p>"You thought something." He says.</p><p>"No I didn't. I don't think anything." I tease.</p><p>Clay groans, then squeezes my hand hard. Before he can speak again, I speak. "You're buying me an Oreo McFlurry, by the way." </p><p>He shakes his head. "Yeah? Venmo me the $2."</p><p>I bite my lip, stifling a laugh. "I don't have two dollars. Can I barter?" </p><p>Clay glances at me, looking smug. "Yeah. What do you have to offer?" </p><p>I unthread my hand from his, lifting it to display the ring. "I can give you this ring for the McFlurry. It's like diamond or something. It's from this loser I know." </p><p>He barks out a laugh. "Fair trade. $2 McFlurry into a— y'know. Deal." He says, then grabs my hand again, holding it tight in his palm. </p><p>It's teasing, but the way he's holding himself starts to relax. I'm helping in... some way. Even if it's a stupid way. His hand is a lot softer in mine as we pull up, and get our food. To my surprise, Clay just keeps driving instead of parking.</p><p>"Gonna find someplace quiet, first." He clarifies, catching onto my mystified expression. </p><p>I pluck one of his fries, and lift to feed it to him. He accepts without a second thought, and I laugh.</p><p>"What if I did something weird to it? You'd never even know."</p><p>Clay's brow furrows. "Like what?" He asks, chewing.</p><p>"Rub it on my foot." I say, quick.</p><p>He smirks. "That's just extra flavor—"</p><p>I yelp, hitting him for that. "You're disgusting." I say, but I'm smiling. I lift him another fry. This time, he smells it first before chomping it down. </p><p>"I solemnly swear I'm not gonna rub it on my foot." I say with a huff. "Just eat." </p><p>"Yes ma'am." He says back, and I keep feeding him. </p><p>The fries are nearly gone when we find a random abandoned parking lot and drive in then park. Clay leans, reaching for the seat adjustment, and slides himself back, relaxing. He starts digging for his food, looking into the distance, huffing a sigh.</p><p>"Yeah?" I question, unbuckling myself and turning to curl up in my seat and face him. "Where's your mental?" </p><p>It's hard to make Clay out in the dim light, but I can tell he's hesitant. "I just..." He starts, eating, and I can hear there's something building inside of him. </p><p>"I mean, obviously, I'm irritated I lost that run for no fucking reason. But like..." He blows out another sigh, and I lean in, resting my head on his shoulder, just listening. </p><p>"There's pressure? I feel pressured. And it's fucking— it's mostly from me. I keep thinking about that run like, damn Clay, why didn't you dodge that? Why didn't you get into the overworld faster? Pop the water any faster? Or even— why didn't I just fucking die in a flat area? I would've spawned right next to that village, like 15 seconds from the portal. I could've just got my shit back if the water didn't—" He pauses, jaw clenched, and punches his steering wheel. He goes back to eating.</p><p>I hum, just to let him know I'm listening, and snag his hand again. He holds it tight, fingers going straight to fidget with my ring. </p><p>"Thanks." He mumbles, leg jittering now, too. "It's just so stupid. I don't let the— people on the internet tilt me in that impactful of a way. But, Christ, if I can't get out of my own fucking head for a second." </p><p>There's another sigh, then he finally relaxes for a moment. "Sorry, sorry. I'm good now." He says, but doesn't sound good at all. </p><p>I feel a pang of hurt for him, unsure what to do to help. I decide maybe a moment to lighten the mood could help, then we could try talking about it more. I don't think he could discuss much in his current state. </p><p>I open my phone, picking the next song. 'My Own Worst Enemy'. Clay's eyes flick to the display, and I watch the smile curl his face as he reads it. </p><p>"Something to say?" He asks, squeezing my hand.</p><p>I shake my head. "Nope! Totally random song choice." I say, and he laughs. I take that as a success. </p><p>The mood slightly lightened, I decide it's safe to probe. "I'm sorry." I start, soft, turning to press a kiss to his shoulder. "No one else will think less of you for not being perfect, y'know? You're still... fucking incredible. You don't have anything to prove. Like, you've proved it. I promise." I say.</p><p>Clay, caught off-guard, takes a ragged breath. He brushes his hands off, done eating, then speaks. "I... I know. I think I know that. Somewhat. It's just— it's me. How do I feel like I'm enough to me? How do I— am I fucking cut out for this? How serious am I allowed to take myself?" He asks it like it's a simple question. An... answerable question.</p><p>"I don't know. But, you can't keep building higher and higher expectations for yourself. You from a year ago would've gone insane if he saw where you're at, yeah? You're going numb to your own accomplishments with this self-deprecation and doubt. You're literally... a guy. A talented, smart, funny and insanely accomplished guy, but a guy none the less. You're not— God. There's a limit." I say, voice slowly getting softer as I go on. </p><p>Clay's quiet now, holding my hand hard enough to hurt. I can tell he's... feeling, processing... something.</p><p>It's no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy<br/>Cause every now and then I kick the living shit out of me</p><p>He starts to curl in on himself, so I come in again, trying to bring him out of it.</p><p>"Besides, that's my boyfriend you're talking about, dick. Leave him the fuck alone or I'll beat your ass." I say, smiling, and he laughs again. Though, it sounds choked, wet. </p><p>I feel myself melt. I lift up until I can wrap both arms around his head and drag him in. He accepts, wrapping his arms around my upper back and burying his face in my chest. </p><p>I pet Clay's hair, feeling and hearing as he shivers, melting against me, crying into my chest. I can't even... imagine the kind of pressure he's under. What I can do... is pet his hair, and speak.</p><p>"I've got you." I mumble, scraping my nails against the base of his neck. "I've always got you." </p><p>The words reassure me, even. It almost feels like a catch phrase. Like our own shitty line in a John Green book that we say before one of us dies of cancer or disappears into the night. </p><p>It takes a moment before Clay relaxes in my hold. He sits back up, palming his eyes. I briefly laugh, lifting my hand to help him wipe. </p><p>"Better, big man?" I ask. </p><p>He laughs right back. "Yeah. That definitely had barely anything to do with Minecraft. That was... something else." He says.</p><p>I nod, expression soft. "I know. I'm here if you decide to talk. Until then, we can keep blaming it on the Minecraft." I say.</p><p>He nods right back, puffing a big exhale and settling back in his seat. "I mean... I'm still feeling something about that game. But it definitely isn't a cry-into-my-girl's tits type of emotion."</p><p>I mhm, barely not laughing. I know I shouldn't be a brat, but I honestly think teasing could help. "Oh, are you like... mad... or something?" I ask, voice whiny, then change the song to 'The Worst in Me - Bad Omens'.</p><p>"Maybe you should like... I dunno. Break a headset over it. Or something." I tease.</p><p>Clay huffs, shaking his head. "Like you've never raged." He says back.</p><p>I tilt my head. "I mean sometimes I'll like... bite the controller. But breaking a whole headset..." I tsk, shaking my head. "That's insane... you're crazy." </p><p>He rolls his eyes, going to speak, but stutters to a stop, listening to the music.</p><p>I had you in my grip, but you're starting to slip<br/>Bring out the worst in me</p><p>"Wh—" He briefly pauses. "What the fuck is this?" He asks, laughing again. </p><p>"It's you. Because you're raging—" I start, breath hitching as Clay quickly leans into my space, close enough I can feel his breath. He searches my face. </p><p>"Yeah? I'm raging?" He asks, voice low. </p><p>I nod, adjusting in my seat, suddenly nervous. His hand plants on my thigh and grips, causing my legs to tense, hips tilting toward it.</p><p>"Maybe you're right." He mumbles, then lifts his other hand to hold my jaw, holding me in place. </p><p>I feel myself start melting in his hands, going pliable. </p><p>"Y'know what would make me feel better?" He asks, leaning in even closer. Close enough that we could kiss, but he doesn't, holding back on the affection. </p><p>"Wh-what?" I ask, only more nervous. </p><p>Clay hums, leaning in to drag his stubble along my neck, shifting his hand so he can push his thumb between my lips. I flutter my eyes, feeling myself slip into a nearly uncontrollable state as I get worked. </p><p>He pulls back, tilting his chin back to stare me down. "Sex." He starts, then smiles. "Control over your body." </p><p>I whimper out a moan, hips rocking. "You want to dominate?" I ask, hesitant. "We can— if we go back to your house we can—" </p><p>I whine as Clay's hands immediately drop off me. He shakes his head, blocking as I reach for him. </p><p>"No house. I have family staying. We're going to do it here, since you'll probably be loud." He says, and I swallow my tongue. Fuck.</p><p>There's only a moment before Clay climbs into the backseat of his car, then settles, staring me down. </p><p>"In my lap." He says, a demand, patting his thigh.</p><p>I feel my stomach flutter, arousal building low in my abdomen. </p><p>"If I say no?" I ask, desperately wanting to just crawl back there, but I'm insufferably a brat.</p><p>Clay's brows lift, and his hands adjust, landing on his waist. I watch as he lifts his shirt, and starts to move his fingers. I realize he's unbuckling and unthreading his belt. </p><p>"In my fucking lap." He says, lower this time. "I'm not playing games with you right now."</p><p>My head dips before I can think much of it, a small affirmative moan passing my lips. I realize I'm up, making my way into the backseat before I can even think. </p><p>Oops, I guess I'm getting angry fucked in the back of a car tonight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. mad? (smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I land myself into Clay's lap, awkwardly folding and bending in the cramped space of the car. It breaks the tension for a moment, small huffed laughs coming from both of us as we readjust. He grabs my waist, tugging me closer so we press flush as I straddle his thighs.</p><p>I lift my arms and wrap them around his shoulders, tilting my head back. "What do you need from me tonight, big man? Like specifically." </p><p>He hums, looking like he's genuinely thinking for a moment. "Submission would be nice. I like when you..." He lowers his eyes to my mouth, swallowing, then lifts a hand to cup my face and drag his thumb along my lip. </p><p>"I want to get you loud, get you to start begging. I can't think about anything else but the way I'm making you feel when you're like that. It's... almost relieving the way my head clears." He says it with a severity that makes my breath hitch, thighs tensing where they bracket him in. </p><p>"You okay with that?" He follows up. </p><p>I want to say an affirmative, but instead tilt forward, pressing my lips to his. He's surprised for moment, lax against my movement until he catches on and pushes back. He quickly takes control of the kiss, hand around my waist going tighter, other hand lifting to hook into my hair and pull. </p><p>I moan into his mouth, then pull back, trying to speak while I still have a level-head. Clay chases with a nip to my lip, then buries himself in my neck. I tilt my head for it, thoughts briefly forgotten as I feel his mouth connect with my skin. </p><p>"No bruises, no bruises—" I gasp out, as quick as I can, eyes rolling back. I really don't want to have to explain a hickey.</p><p>Clay exhales a deep breath, letting the pressure of his mouth go lighter, now just kissing. It's easier to keep my head without the pressure of his teeth and tongue teasing me. </p><p>"I'll submit—" I start.</p><p>He lets out a pleased hum and I curl into a smile, knowing I'm going to cause problems. "—if you make me." I finish.</p><p>Clay immediately pulls out of my neck, smiling himself, searching my face. There's a moment of tense silence where his hand unhooks from my hair, circling to hold my neck just under my jaw and squeeze. </p><p>"Yeah?" He asks, voice calm in a way that makes me shiver. "You want me to be rough?" </p><p>I whimper, feeling his hand briefly tense around my neck. "Yeah. If you want me to submit, you're gonna have to be." I say, as steady as I can manage.</p><p>He splits into another pleased smile, tongue dragging along his lower lip. His hand shifts up, back to my jaw, and he rolls my face in his grip. </p><p>"So fucking mouthy tonight..." He mumbles, though his tone is still gentle, warm.</p><p>I realize I'm going to have to antagonize. I tilt my hips, making sure I'm sitting just right, then roll, grinding into his lap. We both exhale at the contact, his hand briefly tensing. I look down at him through my lashes, and roll again. </p><p>"Yeah? You gonna do something about it? Or are you all talk big man?" I ask, watching the way Clay's jaw immediately ticks, despite his smile. </p><p>"Cute." Clay starts, dropping his hand from my waist to stuff it up the back of my dress, groping my ass. "How about..." He continues, hooking his fingers into my panties and playing with the waistband. "...you fix the fucking attitude. Or I'm going to swing you over my lap and fix it for you." </p><p>I whimper, thighs clenching, the voice in my head screaming at me that it's time to submit. I swallow around my nerves, steadying myself. "Maybe you didn't hear me?" I start, watching as Clay shakes his head. "If you want me to submit. You, have, to, make me." I bite out.</p><p>Clay's face takes on an unreadable calm that makes my stomach go tight. His fingers slowly drag along my skin, following the cut of my panties. </p><p>"I can't wait to hear you beg. You'll beg me to fuck you when I'm done." He starts, briefly laughing. </p><p>He leans back, lifting his belt and folding it, holding it in his palm. "Over my knee or you get double." He demands.</p><p>My body twitches to listen, but I manage to hold. I'm going in on this. I stay upright, staring him down. His grin gets only wider, clearly pleased. </p><p>"God, you make things fun, baby." He says, breathy, then there's a hand cupping the back of my neck, the other threading around my waist and holding tight. </p><p>I get man-handled down, even though I'm mostly pliant with the movement. I steady myself, settling in as he gets me draped across his lap, ass up. He shifts his hips, settling in himself, and I can feel that his cock is hard where it's pressed to my stomach.</p><p>At least I know he's into it, too.</p><p>I bite my lip, fighting a moan as I feel him push up my dress to my waist. He briefly pauses to grope my ass, then his fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, roughly pulling them off and halfway down my thighs. </p><p>I don't have a second to breathe before his hand comes down on my ass, hard. I flinch as he connects with a harsh snap, letting out a soft whine.</p><p>"And to think. That was just my hand." He says, soft. </p><p>I feel the leather of his belt brush my skin. My breath hitches as he teases me with it, pressing it to me. I decide to encourage it, tilting my hips up, lifting my ass like an invitation. I hear him chuckle, low, groping me again. </p><p>"There's my good girl." He mumbles, then reels his arm back. </p><p>I take a sharp breath, holding myself tight, trying to keep myself steady. Then, Clay snaps the first hit with the belt. The pain is sharp. I immediately whimper, exhaling so I don't shout. He runs his hand across the angry skin where he hit, soothing the welt.</p><p>"That's one." He says, low, and I tense. "Nine left."</p><p>Nine?</p><p>"N-no that's— that was two. That was—" I start, but Clay claps a hand over my mouth, gripping my face.</p><p>"Okay. Ten left."</p><p>Fuck. </p><p>I swallow, nerves setting my body alight. His hand over my face readjusts, fingertips playing with my mouth, pushing in. I mouth back at them, inviting, but they stay teasingly shallow, just collecting spit. He pops them out of my mouth and travels his hand down my body.</p><p>"Lift." He says, so I do, tilting my hips higher.</p><p>My legs jump in surprise as his hand slips between them, sliding through my slick. He lands on my clit with practiced ease, circling it slowly. </p><p>"When you're good, I can make you feel good." He starts, breathy. My thighs twitch from the stimulation, body already sensitive because it's him. </p><p>Suddenly, the hand retracts, back to my face, covering my mouth. I brace myself, and the second hit with the belt snaps. I grit my teeth, eyes shutting tight, low whine wobbling in my throat. The sting is still sharp, fresh, when he snaps the belt again. </p><p>I don't expect it to happen so fast.</p><p>I feel Clay reel back for another, and dart my hand up, catching him at the wrist, wordlessly begging for a second. </p><p>"Come on." He says, voice stern. "Behave."</p><p>I whimper, but drop my hand to grip the wrist of the hand he has wrapped around my face. I dig my nails in, nodding, and brace myself. He hits again and I feel the tears start to form, thoughts fuzzing over as all I can focus on becomes the sharpness of the pain and the pressure of his fingers where they grip my face.</p><p>I must look— or sound gone, because Clay pauses, hands going soft, attentive. </p><p>"You're doing so good, baby. Just seven left." He mumbles, doubling over to kiss my shoulder. "This still okay? I need to hear you say yes." He moves his hand off my mouth, instead using it to brush tears from my cheek.</p><p>I nod, eyes rolling back in my head as I take a moment to catch my breath. I take a deep inhale, steadying myself to speak.</p><p>"Y-yeah. It's— I'm alright. Feels..." I let out a shuddered sigh instead of speaking. It's such a hard concept to put into words.</p><p>It hurts good? I'm losing thought and it's nice? </p><p>"I know baby. I'm there too." Clay says, soft, and I know he gets it. </p><p>It means we don't have to think about anything except each other, even if it's for this small moment in time. </p><p>His hand steadies, covering my mouth again, and my breath hitches. We're back into it. He grips my hip, man-handling my ass into a better position, then hits with belt again. The sting and pain are immediately harsh.</p><p>I arch my back, body desperate to move, jerk, react in some way to the punishment. My mouth stays open, a steady stream of moans and whines dripping out of me only to be muffled by his palm. </p><p>There's another snap of the belt against my ass. I fully flinch, body shivering with the effort. The pain is only compounding, each hit only worse on top of now bruising flesh. I'm embarrassed to think about what I might look like to Clay right now, drooling against his hand, ass on display, likely bright red, entire body rocking as I barely hold myself together, mewling and sobbing under his control. </p><p>"We'd be done already if you had listened earlier." He says, voice quiet and soft, yet still stern. "I could be fucking you already." </p><p>Clay lifts his hand from my face to my hair, petting me to sooth my nerves. </p><p>"Please. I'll be good now. Please just fuck me." I beg immediately, skin still throbbing from the pain. </p><p>"Yeah?" He asks back, voice humored. "You wanna make a deal with me?" </p><p>I nod.</p><p>"Okay." He starts, then pauses, collecting my arms, holding them at the wrist behind my back. "In return for stopping, I get to tie your arms behind your back, and finish the count. You're gonna cum for me. Five times. Then I'll fuck you." </p><p>My stomach goes tight. He can't— I— we did four before, and I was fucking... gone. Five is— intimidating. </p><p>Clay squeezes my ass and I nearly shout, bruised flesh incredibly pain-sensitive. </p><p>"Y-yes. Yeah. Yes." I stutter out, nodding, eyes rolling back in my head. </p><p>"Good girl." Clay mumbles.</p><p>The leather of the belt is pressed to my wrists as he uses it to bind them together behind my back. Then he flips me so I'm looking up at him. He grips my thigh, pulling my legs open to get me on display. His other arm rests parallel to my stomach, hand landing right between my legs.</p><p>He starts slow, dragging his fingers through just to get them wet, before he lands on my clit and stays there. My body rolls with it, hips tilting as the warmth starts to bloom out from everywhere his fingers make contact. I shudder my way through a sigh, feeling myself grip on nothing, knowing this is going to be a rough ride. </p><p>Clay's other hand stays on my thigh, gripping hard enough to bruise, keeping me spread open as his fingers take an immediately punishing pace. The pads of his finger press, stuttering against my clit, petting everything sensitive.</p><p>I can hear that I'm moaning, but it's hard to maintain any semblance of consciousness or control in this situation. I arch, rocking into it, hips lifting off his lap. He only tugs me closer, keeping me in place with the massive fucking hand planted to my thigh. </p><p>I cannot fucking believe how fast this man works me.</p><p>"I—" I sigh out, feeling the pressure start to build low in my stomach. "I'm close." I finish my thought, eyes briefly fluttering open to watch Clay's expression. </p><p>"It's been thirty seconds—" He says back, mouth parted in surprise, fingers only going faster.</p><p>I whine, body pulling tight, and crest over without another word, shivering into my first orgasm. Clay immediately starts to laugh, fingers never pausing between my legs. </p><p>"What—" He starts, shocked at the speed of things, I presume.</p><p>I moan, lifting my hips, legs jerking in oversensitivity. My thighs tense, trying to close on the stimulus but Clay only grips harder, keeping me spread. Though, his fingers briefly slow. </p><p>"Say thank you."</p><p>I look up at his face again, rocking my hips against his hand, feeling the pleasure start to build, and see his smug expression. I whine, tilting my head back, defiant. </p><p>"W-why?"</p><p>Clay shakes his head, then speeds his fingers right back up until I'm jerking around in his lap, legs kicking out, so much closer to cumming than I should be.</p><p>"It's Thanksgiving, isn't it?" He asks, grinning, and I arch. What a fucking idiot.</p><p>"Plus. When someone makes you feel good, you thank them, don't you?" He asks.</p><p>I open my mouth to answer, but his fingers interrupt me, pushing in a little rougher, giving me more stimulus. Instead of speaking, I moan.</p><p>"Now say thank you, baby." He repeats.</p><p>This time, I mewl out a moan and nod. </p><p>"Th-thank you." I stutter out, pussy throbbing, and immediately crest into my second climax.</p><p>Clay chases it, sinking his fingers into me as I cum to feel me throb around them while he pets my insides. His thumb circles my clit. It's slower, but rougher. Maybe even better. The diversity in the stimulation has me twitching, rocking in his lap, chasing again.</p><p>Clay laughs, surprised. "Have— have you stopped cumming?" He asks.</p><p>I swallow, shaking my head no. I don't know why I'm so responsive tonight, but I am. Every touch is... overwhelming. </p><p>"Please." I whimper out, begging, though I have no idea what for. </p><p>"Does it feel that good?" Clay asks, and all I can do is nod, entire body pulling tight.</p><p>It's like a fucking chain reaction. The stutter of his fingers against my clit never stops, and every time I get past the oversensitivity it's because I'm about to cum. </p><p>"I'm—" I choke out, hips lifting off Clay's lap again. He holds me in place to his stomach with the hand on my thigh, never stopping.</p><p>"Go ahead." He says, and my body listens. </p><p>I nearly shout as I crest over again, rolling into a third orgasm. This is getting so fucking embarrassing. </p><p>I'm less than liquid as Clay continues, trembling in his grip, thighs shaking near constantly. I'm useless in this situation. I try to speak, but what comes out is moaning, noise, and: "Th-thank you. Thank you. Th-thank y-you, daddy." On repeat. </p><p>It doesn't take long to finish the count. I nearly sob in relief once I get to five, knowing I'll have a second to breathe, entire body rocking in Clay's arms.</p><p>He doesn't stop.</p><p>"P-please— please. That was five. Please." I start, wrists desperately pulling against the belt. "Please Clay—" I beg as his fingers pause for a second, pushing inside of me and curling instead of stimulating my clit.</p><p>"I want you to keep going for me." He says, and I break into a low whine.</p><p>"Please. Just fuck me." I whimper out.</p><p>I hear him laugh. "I will baby, I will. But right now..." His fingers pull out of me, and go right back to my clit despite the way my entire body jerks to avoid it, completely overwhelmed. "...right now you're gonna keep cumming for my fingers, aren't you?" He asks, low.</p><p>My moan is high, needy. Clay shushes me through it, voice gentle, completely contrast to the rapid pace of  his relentless touch. Though, true to his word, I feel the stimulation start to build into pleasure, pressure of an orgasm low in my stomach. </p><p>I blink back tears, briefly opening my eyes to look at his face. He's staring right back at me, eyes half-lidded, darting between watching my mouth open to moan and my eyes as they roll back in my head. He hits a particularly good angle with his fingers, and my moan draws out.</p><p>He does it again, pressing in to work the same spot. It takes seconds before I actually fucking shout, shuddering into my sixth climax. I'm a moaning mess, stomach drawn tight enough to hurt. I rock against his lap, body contorting, legs dragging around as his fingers continue in their pursuit. </p><p>I'm still shaking in his grip when the pleasure builds again. The pressure is different this time, harsher, deeper... familiar. My thighs go tight.</p><p>"Clay—" I warn, voice as steady as I can, entire body arching and fighting. "Clay it— Clay—" I whimper out. </p><p>I need him to stop. </p><p>He doesn't get it. He takes it as encouragement, fingers continuing.</p><p>I fully kick, bucking wildly as he keeps me gripped. "Please— fuck— Clay— I'm—" I choke out. There's a loss of control in the throb of my stomach.</p><p>I'm not quite sure, but I think if I cum again, I might squirt. In his fucking car. </p><p>"Clay please—" I sob out, but he doesn't get it.</p><p>I grit my teeth, entire body arching, and shiver into another orgasm. There's a deep throb, muscles of my stomach releasing as everything else goes impossibly tight. </p><p>"Oh, shit—" Clay says, fingers slowing to a near stop, and I know it fucking happened. </p><p>"I'm sorry— I'm— I'm sorry—" I whimper, lifting my knees, rocking against his now wet lap. "I tried— I tried to tell you—" I pant out, still moaning, embarrassment and tears hot on my face, trying to curl in on myself.</p><p>Clay immediately gets gentle, attentive. "It's okay baby. It's okay. You did so good. My jeans are gonna be fine after a wash." He mumbles, lifting a hand to cup my face and wipe my tears.</p><p>I keep whining, feeling soft and small. </p><p>"C'mon, c'mere. It's okay." He says, still attentive, threading an arm around my shoulders and lifting me. </p><p>I let him handle me to where he wants, me straddling his lap while I melt into his chest. He keeps me cradled tight, pressing soft, slow kisses to the top of my head. I keep shivering, overstimulated and whimpering, too far gone to fight the restraints anymore. </p><p>"Hey, c'mon— it's okay." He continues, still trying to soothe me through it. </p><p>I nod where my face is stuck to his shirt, now damp from the mix of sweat, tears, and saliva coating my face. I probably look like a fucking disaster after that. I finally peel myself off of his chest, blearily blinking, shifting my hips. I can feel he's hard under me, and muster the energy to roll into it. </p><p>Clay immediately chuckles. "Yeah? You alright now?" He asks.</p><p>I sniffle and nod, rocking into his lap, pleased at the soft exhale he releases. "Yeah. I'm okay." I mumble.</p><p>"Ready for more?" He asks, hands dipping to land on my hips and squeeze as he rolls his hips up against me. </p><p>"Yeah." I sigh out, grinding down. "Let's take care of this hardened Clay—"</p><p>Clay immediately groans, a hand snapping up to hold my face in place, squeezing as I smile at him, proud of myself. </p><p>"You're such an idiot." He grumbles out, despite the small huffed laugh I hear him release, dragging his thumb along my lip.</p><p>I can't resist. I open my mouth and push with my tongue, sinking down on Clay's thumb and wrapping my lips around it. He immediately shakes his head, despite the smile curling his lips. He takes control with his thumb, pressing it down, and holding my mouth open.</p><p>I look up at him, moaning softly, as he leans in, close enough I can feel his breath on my face. I try to lean into it, wanting a kiss, but he holds me in place. </p><p>"You want something?" He asks with a smug smile, teasing me. </p><p>I nod, lathing my tongue against his thumb.</p><p>"Okay." He says, tilting his head back to meet my eyes. "You can have one." He says, but still doesn't close the distance.</p><p>I start to whine, desperate for affection, but he doesn't falter. Instead, he grips, forcing my mouth open all the way, leaning in, then spits. My eyes flutter, noises high in my throat as he immediately chases his spit with a rough kiss, pulling his thumb out of my mouth. </p><p>"Good girl." He sighs out against my lips, then presses in for another kiss. </p><p>I smile into it, feeling pleased to be owned like this. Clay pulls back, face flushed red, rolling his hips against me.</p><p>"That was two." I say, teasing, as soon as I've collected myself.</p><p>"What?" He asks, his eyes lifting up from where they were watching his hand hike up my dress.</p><p>"You said one, but I got two kisses, didn't I?" It's... antagonistic.</p><p>Clay laughs, then starts rucking my dress all the way up. "Can't ever keep that bratty fucking mouth shut, huh?" He questions.</p><p>I open my mouth to retort, but he's faster, fully lifting the dress and stuffing the fabric into my mouth, gagging me with it. </p><p>"Hold that for me." He says with a wink and a grin. </p><p>I roll my eyes, grinding down into his lap again now that my body is on display. His hands continue their work, pushing my bralette up until it's resting above my breasts. I see him look down, staring, and drag his tongue along his lower lip. </p><p>I've been waitin' for this one—</p><p>Clay's head dips to my chest, the hand on my waist squeezing tight and holding me in place. I can feel his other hand in his lap, working to get his cock out. </p><p>I moan, muffled by the fabric as his mouth latches on to my nipple. His tongue is hot and teasing against the skin, curling and lathing until the nipple peaks, then rolling it between his teeth. My thighs tense for that, aching desire for him to bury his cock inside of me becoming almost overwhelming. I want to beg, but realize it will come out a muffled mess of noise from around the fabric. </p><p>Clay suddenly pulls back, lifting his hips to push at his waistband and pull his cock out. He spits in his palm, then wraps his hand around it, stroking up the length. I moan as I watch, feeling myself throb, wanting it inside.</p><p>"Gimme a fuckin' second, baby." Clay mumbles out, then threads a hand around my hip to my ass, holding me tight and tugging me closer. </p><p>I keep whining, brain still melted from cumming seven times in a row. He gets me lined up over his lap. Holding the base of his cock, he drags the head through my pussy, grinding it against my clit, just teasing for a moment. I whimper, tilting my hips forward like a demand. </p><p>Clay readjusts, lining himself up at my entrance. I can feel the immediate stretch, just in the way the tip feels sinking into me. </p><p>"God you feel so fucking good—" I try to sigh out, before I can even think that I'm gagged. What he probably hears is 'mmpf mm hmm mmpf nn hmm hn'.</p><p>It gets a soft laugh out of him. "Yeah?" He asks back. </p><p>All I can do is nod.</p><p>Clay shakes his head, amused with me. "Hold on, baby." He mumbles, then grips down on my hip. </p><p>He tugs me forward, and my thighs tense as the stretch pushes further. His cock slides in with relative ease. I'm already stretched and wet from the... fun he decided to have. </p><p>We both let out pleased exhales, Clay's hand moving off the base of his cock once it's securely inside to land on my stomach. He steadies me like that, then jerks me down into his lap, finishing burying himself inside me.</p><p>I moan, biting down on the fabric in my mouth, and feel my stomach twitch. I immediately start to clench down, fluttering around the length of his cock. He presses low on my abdomen, digging in with his fingers. It's harsh enough I can feel it move his cock inside of me. I let a noise slip, and Clay looks up from where he was staring at himself inside of me.</p><p>"Feel that?" He asks, and I nod back.</p><p>Clay smirks, and does it again, a lot harder this time. I shiver at the way it forces me to squeeze his cock. He must feel something too, because he moans under his breath. </p><p>I'm tired of the teasing.</p><p>I brace myself and lift, bouncing in Clay's lap once. His eyes immediately catch on my breasts, and the way they bounce with me. The hand on my stomach drifts up to my chest. He uses the massive spread of his fingers to cup both breasts, pads of his fingers pressing to my nipples. </p><p>"Go ahead." He says, low, and I take it as permission to do it again.</p><p>I tense my thighs and start to move, riding him at a leisurely pace. It would be... easier if I had my hands to help, though. My wrists flex where they're still bound, a whine low in my throat. </p><p>Clay notices. "The belt?" He questions. I nod. </p><p>"You want it off?" He asks, and I nod again. </p><p>He nods back, leaning forward, dropping both hands from my body to circle around to my back and undo the belt. I flex my hands as soon as they're released, shaking them out, before quickly lifting them and using them to pull my dress all the way up and off. </p><p>Clay's hands land on the dip of my waist, holding tight as he rocks his hips under me. </p><p>"Better?" He asks.</p><p>I nod, shedding my bra next. "Yeah. Thank you." </p><p>I use the newfound freedom to plant my hands on his shoulders and brace myself. It's helpful in steadying me as I start to move. </p><p>Clay's head rolls back on his shoulders, a soft exhale passing his lips as his cock starts to drag in and out of me with my movement. </p><p>"Feels good daddy." I sigh out, a simplified version of what I wanted to say earlier, brain ceasing to function at full capacity now that I'm being stimulated like this. </p><p>"Yeah—" He sighs back, interrupted by a moan as I clench down, his hands holding my waist tight. </p><p>I blink slow, relaxed. The pace of this is... comfortable after getting myself— into trouble. Sometimes slow is nice too. I tilt forward, dropping my head to Clay's shoulder and bury myself in his neck.</p><p>I slowly mouth as his skin, eyes shut, hips moving a leisurely rhythm. We melt into each other, bodies pressed flush. </p><p>Clay sighs, relaxed. "—feels so nice baby." He mumbles out, sounding somewhat gone, his thumb dragging slow circles into my skin. </p><p>I pick up the pace, bouncing hard enough our skin connects with a slap. He hums for that, equally as pleased at the change in pace. One of his hands drops from my waist, thumb pressing to my clit, just barely moving as I bounce on his cock.</p><p>I immediately moan, high and breathy. </p><p>Clay's lips pull into a pleased smile. "All of that, and you're still so fuckin' sensitive."</p><p>I duck my head back down to his neck and latch on, biting down and sucking a bruise to reclaim control. I hear him exhale, sharp, then his hands go tight.</p><p>"I'm gonna fuck you now." He says, like it's simple, then slides a hand up into my hair and hooks it in, pulling to pop me off his neck.</p><p>We make brief eye-contact as he pulls my hair, forcing my head to tilt back. He leans in, mouth attaching to my throat roughly.</p><p>"No br— ah—" I try to start, but get interrupted with a gasp as he bites down and sucks. Too late. </p><p>I whimper, lifting both hands to card them into his hair and pull. He stays attached to my neck, dropping both hands to my hips and holding me in place. Suddenly, he's snapping his hips at a rapid pace, nearly violently fucking himself into me. </p><p>My eyes roll back in my head, pussy still feeling desperately sensitive despite being over-stimulated for so long. I bounce back into his rhythm, wanting to reclaim it, but he keeps the same energy. </p><p>"Daddy c'mon—" I whine, tremble starting in my thighs. </p><p>Clay doesn't even hesitate. He tightens his hands on my hips until its hard enough to bruise, slamming his cock into me with a surprising ferocity. </p><p>"Shut the fuck up. Take it." He grits out, then latches himself right back onto my neck and bites down.</p><p>"Yes sir." I mewl out, pulling his hair tight. </p><p>I let myself relax in Clay's grip, letting him take out... whatever this is on me. His grunts are low, constant. His breath is heavy against my skin. I lean into him, until we're pressing flush. The angle shift makes me moan, his cock dragging against me just right. </p><p>"Close." I sigh out. "I'm gonna cum again—" I say it like an admission.</p><p>I keep expecting myself to be done, but when he fucks me like this... it's like I can't help it. </p><p>"Fuck— yeah. Me too, baby, me too. Close." Clay mumbles against my skin.</p><p>He finally stops sucking, keeping his open mouth pressed to my throat like a threat as he snaps himself up into me. I feel my legs tense, and grip down hard, knowing it's coming. </p><p>I immediately hear him moan as I clench, his hips faltering as his cock throbs inside of me. We both take steadying breaths, and it's back to the same insane rhythm. I arch against him, pulling his hair, and get another good moan. </p><p>It's all it takes.</p><p>I shout as I climax, high and breathy, moans flooding my throat. Clay immediately starts swearing, hands on my hips gripping impossibly tight as his thrusts against me become ragged, pointed, rapid. He keeps panting, small moans accenting his thrusts I involuntarily tighten on his cock. </p><p>It doesn't take long before he's shivering in my hands, hips snapping up into me a final few times. </p><p>Clay's arms shift, both fully wrapping around my waist and holding me as tight as he can while his hips jerk, briefly lifting the both of us. He moans, guttural. I can feel his cock throb inside of me, jerking as he cums. His hips keep rocking into it, and mine move to match his pace. </p><p>I clench one more time for good measure, and he just melts under me. I hold him back as hard as he's holding me, mouthing at his jaw. </p><p>"So fucking good baby—" He sighs out, the second he can process thought. </p><p>I laugh, small, pleased, and keep kissing. He tilts his head back to give me better access, arms going loose in their iron grip around me to instead shift back to my hips and squeeze. It... hurts. I wonder if he actually left bruises.</p><p>I arch against him, rolling my hips a final few times on his spent cock. It's worth it for the small whimper he lets out. </p><p>"How are we cleaning this..." I ask, hesitant, knowing the second I pull off we'll have to deal with... a lot.</p><p>Clay laughs, his head rolling back on his shoulders, briefly squeezing my hips. "Fuck if I know." He mumbles back.</p><p>I lean back, smiling, and see his blissed out expression, knowing I likely look similarly loopy. I lift both hands to his face, cradling it, dragging my thumbs along his cheeks and playing with his facial hair. </p><p>"You fuck me so good." I start, soft. I watch his smile only grow, eyes almost fully closed as he relaxes. </p><p>"You fucked me so good, I thought you might have two cocks." I finish my thought. He huffs the smallest laugh, still shaking his head. </p><p>I watch as his eyes flit to the side, staring at the fog covered windows from our fuck. He squeezes my hip one more time before lifting his hand to drag a finger through the condensation. I watch in fascination as he draws a heart, then puts our initials in it, giggling to himself.</p><p>It makes me melt.</p><p>I lean in, pressing a kiss to Clay's jaw, genuinely happy. He chuckles, holding me back. We bliss out for a moment, for as long as we can, enjoying being close. </p><p>He's the one that breaks it. "You still want to go for a drive?" He asks, quiet, soothing my back with his hands.</p><p>I groan, latching on tighter. "What's the time?" I ask.</p><p>He briefly tilts forward with me to fumble around for his phone before settling back. </p><p>"It's about 1:30." He says, and I immediately pout. </p><p>"Only a small one. Super small. My Thanksgiving is at noon." I say, quiet. </p><p>Clay hums for that, soothing with his hand again. "That's weird." </p><p>I shrug. I didn't think too much about it. My mom has business that afternoon, it's just the time that worked. Plus, it benefits me, because it gives me time to show up at his Thankgiving that night. </p><p>"Did you want me to come?" He asks.</p><p>"No." I say, instant. "God no. It's gonna be so awkward." I say, quick. </p><p>I feel him stiffen. "Sorry. Just a question— didn't..." He huffs, not finishing the thought.</p><p>"No it's not— babe." I start, pulling back to meet his eyes. "It's just— it's gonna be awkward anyways. I don't want to have to deal with dragging you into the mix and the four thousand questions my dad will have. You know he still lowkey hates you, right? I don't—" </p><p>"No, no, I get it." He interrupts, shooting a brief smile to reassure me. "Just hurt for a second. Started to over-think it, but I got it." </p><p>I nod back, then lean in to meet his lips. It's soft, affection-filled. We've got each other, and that's what counts right now. </p><p>"So..." Clay mumbles against my lips, pulling back from the kiss. "How are we going to clean this—" </p><p>I laugh for that. </p><p>***</p><p>Clay drops me off at home a bit before three. We cleaned up using a single travel-size packet of tissues that were thankfully stuffed in his glove box. Oh, and our tongues, but lets not talk about that. </p><p>I tried to... somewhat fix my appearance in the flip down mirror, but... it's obvious I just got my back blown out in a car. If it weren't for the fucked up hair, it would be the limp. If not the limp, or the hickeys, or the lips, or the running make-up, or— everything. Once again, it's obvious I just got railed in a car. </p><p>I blow him a kiss goodbye, and stumble my way inside of my garage, barely keeping my balance like a newborn foal. I send a silent prayer that no one will be waiting for me. </p><p>It goes unanswered. </p><p>I open the door to my house and immediately meet eyes with my father, who looks up from his phone, sitting on the couch. </p><p>I curl in on myself.</p><p>"Have fun?" He asks.</p><p>I nod, shuffling myself around, toeing my shoes off. Before I can slip away my dad is up, walking closer to me.</p><p>"You were with Clay, right?" He asks.</p><p>I nod again. "Yep." I say back, then try to shuffle past. </p><p>My father's hand lifts, landing on my shoulder. "So are you guys just fooling around, or are you dating?" He asks. </p><p>Ah fuck.</p><p>I laugh nervously. "What? Neither— we got ice cream and went for a drive and—" </p><p>"And sucked each other's necks?" He interrupts, poking a finger to a fat hickey I just remembered Clay left. Shit. </p><p>"L-listen—" I start, trying again.</p><p>"Nope." My father interrupts. "I really don't want to hear a damn thing about that from you. Clay will be here tomorrow, 9 am sharp. I'll ask him about it." He says, then steps back.</p><p>I huff. "You can't make demands like that. We're not kids. No one has to do anything." </p><p>My dad lifts his brows at me, fixing me with a hard look.</p><p>I falter, swallowing nerves. "Fine. I'll ask. But I can't force him to do anything he doesn't want to do." I say.</p><p>I hear him make a noise. "Well if he wants to suck on my daughter's neck at 3 in the damn morning he better want to sit his ass on my couch tomorrow at 9. That's final." He says.</p><p>I nod, beyond embarrassed, afraid to look up.</p><p>"Glad we're on the same page. Get to bed. We've got an early morning, kiddo." He says, then hugs me. </p><p>I go rigid, but lift my arms, hugging him back for just a moment, then he's gone, lumbering off to bed.</p><p>Well.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>I immediately pull out my phone and call Clay.</p><p>"What? Forget something?" He asks, laughing.</p><p>I pout. "No. Just got busted by my dad. He wants you here at 9 am for an interrogation." I mumble. </p><p>"Oh, shit." Clay says back, then a moment of silence. </p><p>I go to apologize, stumbling into my room, face hot with embarrassment, feeling like an idiot. Clay speaks first. </p><p>"Nine? So I only get five hours to sleep?" He questions.</p><p>I laugh, somewhat relieved that that's his concern. </p><p>"Yeah." I say, small and quiet.</p><p>Clay hears my tone, and softens his as well. "Yeah. It's no problem, baby. I'll be there." He says.</p><p>"Thank you." I mumble back, quiet, genuine, then flop into my bed. "Might've gotten away with it if someone didn't suck my fucking neck like it was his job." </p><p>"Okay?" Clay asks, voice pitched high. "Lot of talk from someone who made it so I have to walk inside looking like I've pissed myself." He says right back.</p><p>I pause, pursing my lips. "You deserved it." I say, simple. </p><p>"Uh-huh. Keep talking, squirt baby." </p><p>My mouth drops open in surprise, noises of protest coming out. "Clay. I came eight fucking times. You knew what was—" </p><p>I hear him start laughing, and stop. </p><p>"Next time, ten, EZ." He says.</p><p>I make another noise. "Fuck you? No? No, fuck you." I say back.</p><p>Clay just keeps laughing. "Watch your mouth. Don't say that to me."</p><p>I lift my brows, ready to act up. "Oh? I'm sorry master. Did I speak out of line? I'm so sorry I'll wait for permission to speak next time." I say, voice pitched high.</p><p>Clay's laugh starts to die. "Stop."</p><p>"Sorry master! I'm so sorry master!" I continue.</p><p>His voice is firm this time. "Stop. Fucking— stop." </p><p>I do, but I keep smiling, proud of myself. There's silence for a moment before he speaks. </p><p>"Are you done, then?" He asks.</p><p>I bite my lip. "Yes master. I promise I won't speak without your permiss—" </p><p>There's a chime, indicating he hung up the call. I pull my phone back, surprised. I grin. So I pissed him off, then. I immediately call back. It rings for a moment, but he answers quick. </p><p>"Are you done?"  He asks, and I can hear the irritation.</p><p>I'm tempted to say it again, but contain myself. "Yeah. Sure. Fine." I mumble.</p><p>"Good. Christ you're such a fucking brat."</p><p>I hum for that, brain paused. "I'm sorry—" I start, and we both go silent, waiting to see if I continue it.</p><p>I hold, knowing the power I have, rolling onto my stomach and kicking my feet. </p><p>"That's all. I'm just sorry." I coo out, releasing the moment.</p><p>Clay groans, then sighs. We hold silence for another moment before he speaks again. "I gotta go inside. I'm just sitting in my driveway like a freak." He mumbles.</p><p>I nod, though I know he can't see it. "Okay. G'nite."</p><p>"Yeah. 'Night. Love you." He says.</p><p>My brain stutters. I just cannot get used to it. </p><p>"Love you too." I say after a moment of hesitation, probably quieter than I should, and hang up, curling up in my blankets.</p><p>What a nice note to end the day on. But... tomorrow is going to be a lot.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. wombo combo (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daddy Dream<br/>2 New Messages<br/>'here'<br/>':)' 8:56 am</p><p>I lock my phone and swing up to standing from where I was sitting on the couch next to my mom. I slide into some slippers, preparing to go fetch Clay. </p><p>"Is he here?" My father asks from the kitchen.</p><p>I 'mhm' and nothing else, quickly slipping out the door and shuffling into the garage. I'm... sore from yesterday. Everywhere. I woke up to bruises on my thighs, hips, wrists, and of course, ass. So if I'm moving a little slowly, a little awkwardly, that's my business. </p><p>I poke my head outside just to see Clay hopping out of his stupid car... dressed... up?</p><p>I think I short-circuit, mouth actually parting in surprise. I stay in my doorway, frozen, taking it in as he locks his car. He's in actual dress pants? With the nice ass belt? With the nice ass shoes? With the collared shirt under a sweater? With the necklace? With the—</p><p>Rings. </p><p>Rings on his fingers.</p><p>My thighs tense, a soft moan I pray he can't hear passing my lips. Clay looks up at me, smiling, seemingly unaware of the fact that I'm about to go feral. </p><p>"Yo." He says, simple, approaching and wrapping an arm around my waist. </p><p>Clay leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I stay frozen, still processing what he's wearing.</p><p>"Everything alright?" He asks, as I continue in my silence.</p><p>I finally find my words. "Why— why didn't you tell me you were going to dress like this? I feel... underdressed." I say. It's about half the truth. Though, I'm also feeling something else. </p><p>Clay laughs. "I mean. I didn't know I was going to dress like this. But, someone squirted on my jeans, and I didn't wanna show up in sweats. Is it too much?" He asks.</p><p>I freeze, face flushing as I process that. "I mean. Yes, it's absolutely too much. But fuck me—" I choke out, filter fading. </p><p>He laughs again as I plaster myself to him and grab for his hand, lifting it to my face. </p><p>"Uh-huh?" He asks, watching, bemused.</p><p>"Uh huh." I say right back, looking up at him, then start to mouth at his rings.</p><p>Clay catches on quick, taking the control and dragging his fingers against my lips, playing with me. Who am I if not a whore— his whore? I part my lips, pushing my tongue out, trying to get his fingers into my mouth. </p><p>"Baby, c'mon..." He chastises, but doesn't bother to pull back. He actually pushes forward, slipping the tips of his fingers into my mouth as I tongue at them.</p><p>I look up at Clay, seeing the way his face melts into pleasure as he watches it happen. He likes the power I give him, and I like the way he fucks me senseless. At least, when it comes to sex. </p><p>"Look at you..." Clay mumbles, getting only slightly more demanding with his fingers. "Less than a minute and you're making me want you on your  fucking knees." </p><p>I crowd in closer, small noises escaping my throat. I don't know what it is about him that makes me act like this, but it's impossible to stop. I blink, slow, then pop off his fingers to go back to mouthing at the rings. </p><p>"Yeah?" He asks, smiling. "Maybe I'll wear rings more often." </p><p>I barely have a chance to nod before I hear the door leading into my house open with a creak. I startle, dropping Clay's hand and spinning. I try to break away from him, but he lands an arm around my waist holding me in place. He drags me flush to his body, and I feel something... hard press to my ass. </p><p>Oops. I guess I'm playing defense, acting as the wall of woman to block my parents from seeing... that until it goes away. </p><p>"What's taking? Forget how to use the stairs, or?" My father starts, antagonistic. </p><p>I huff. "I was just saying hello first. Figured I'd want to talk to Clay before you're around to bully him."</p><p>He sneers. "It's not bullying. It's called being a dad." </p><p>"Okay geezer." I say right back, lifting my brows, but start to guide Clay forward so we can go inside. </p><p>"You kids slip into some super glue or—" My dad starts again, watching the way we're plastered together as we walk up.</p><p>I ignore him, trying to slip past, but Clay pauses, extending a hand. "Been awhile old man." He says, stiff.</p><p>My father claps their hands together, firm, and shakes it. "Good to see you finally owned up to your true intentions." </p><p>I can see they're both white knuckling each other. I'm already rolling my eyes again. Of course. A pissing contest. I cringe, then tug on Clay again, guiding him to sit in the living room. </p><p>"Hey, Frog." My mom says, expression never changing as she turns up the Hallmark Original holiday movie we'll be forced to consume over the next few hours. </p><p>"Good morning." Clay says back, tight-lipped, sitting down. </p><p>I realize it's not going to look good, but I have to do it. I sit down with him, settling myself into his still active lap. It's like sitting on a land mine, the soft exhale that passes his lips letting me know I need to stay still. His arm tightens around my waist as we get looks from both of my parents. </p><p>"Frog and Toad just can't get enough of each other, huh?" My mom says, briefly making eye-contact with my father. </p><p>I have to fight my sigh.</p><p>Such stupid fucking names. Clay and I got caught trying to eat frogs once and had to get our stomachs pumped and suddenly I'm toad and he's frog for the rest of our goddamn lives when we're in a room together.</p><p>"Don't call us that." I say, simple, and settle my head on Clay's shoulder, bracing myself for a long day. </p><p>I look up at his face, seeing he's trying to look as serious as he can. It's almost amusing to see him like this. I lift a hand to cup his jaw, playing with his stubble, honestly just pawing at him. He flicks his eyes over to me, watching me with a quirked brow, but doesn't pull away. I drag my fingers higher, lightly brushing them along his cheekbone, noticing eyebags. </p><p>"You look tired." I mumble, soft, private. </p><p>He smiles for that. "What— of course I look tired. I am tired." He says back, just as quiet, squeezing my waist.</p><p>I pout. "I know it's my fault. It's all my fault." </p><p>Clay just keeps grinning. "You're right. It is." </p><p>Okay? I'll play games. </p><p>I hold eye contact, roll my hips, then swing up to standing, off his lap. He quickly sits up, folding himself awkwardly, trying to adjust his sweater to cover his lap. </p><p>"I'm gonna change so we're matching." I say, then walk off, leaving him to fend for himself.</p><p>I walk downstairs proud of myself, feeling my phone immediately buzz. I laugh, not checking it, and quickly strip. I end up in a body-con turtleneck dress, add thigh highs, add a literally colossal cable knit cardigan, and call that an outfit. </p><p>I make my way back upstairs, immediately making eye-contact with a glaring Clay, and seat myself right back into his lap. </p><p>"Do you like it?" I ask, coy, wiggling myself to adjust in his lap.</p><p>"Yeah." He says back, and that's it. </p><p>He must still be annoyed, then. Still, his hands keep speaking for him, exploratory against the fabric, fingers edging up my sleeves. </p><p>"Soft." He says, breathy, and I have to hold back a laugh. </p><p>His fingers keep pushing forward until he's literally just jamming his hands inside of my sweater and holding me like that. </p><p>"Warm in there." Clay mumbles out next, seeking the heat.</p><p>I tilt my head back into his chest with a thump, grinning, looking up at him. He catches my eyes, smiling back, and I see his face is starting to flush. I tilt my head back even further, then lift, pressing a kiss to his jaw. </p><p>I only get a few seconds to mouth at him before my mother clears her throat, and I suddenly remember where we are. I swallow nervously, head falling back forward. My face warms as well, embarrassment sneaking it's way into my chest. </p><p>"So... you're in a relationship?" My mother asks.</p><p>I hesitate to answer. Yes but no. No but yes. Give us a month it's for a good reason. We call each other boyfriend and girlfriend though. Also we say I love you. Also—</p><p>"Yes." Clay answers for me.</p><p>I lift my brows, turning to look at his face again. It seems... unreadable. Okay. I guess it's time for the interrogation to start. He seems... prepared. Thankfully, the build is slow. My parents keep asking him questions here and there, but for the most part they're pre-occupied with cooking and watching their movie. </p><p>Though, my dad does drop a, "How long have you been dating?" And my mom drops a, "Can you explain what Twitch is, again?" Both very annoying questions. I try to keep playing defense, answering the stupid and annoying questions for him, while he squeezes me appreciatively. </p><p>We somehow make it to meal time without moving. I'm thankful that the disaster between Clay's legs is no longer happening as we break apart and head to the table to sit down and eat. I sit on one side of the circular table, across from my mother, flanked by Clay and my father.</p><p>It's weird to sit near Clay like this, acting normal, not quite touching. It seems... almost distant. I glance at him tearing a roll, still fielding questions from my parents, and swallow nervously. This is the same man who fucked me until I cried less than 12 hours ago. I blink quickly, trying to shake the thought.</p><p>"Can you pass me a roll, daddy—" I sputter out, still trying to think of anything else, completely distracted. </p><p>It feels like slow motion as I watch Clay nod and stretch his arm across the table as my father simultaneously does the same. Two rolls land on my plate, then complete fucking silence descends. </p><p>Ah. I couldn't avoid disaster forever.</p><p>I'm not looking up.</p><p>I will die before I look up. </p><p>I squeak as Clay's hand lands on my thigh under the table, squeezing, and finally look over at him. He looks calm, unbothered, looking down and eating his food in complete unaware bliss. I manage to glance at my mother, seeing her averting her eyes, throwing back her glass of wine that she suddenly finds very interesting. </p><p>Finally, I look over to my father, seeing he's completely still, staring at Clay like he can light him on fire with his fucking eyes. </p><p>"Is there a child between the two of you we don't know about?" My dad asks, finally breaking the silence, gesturing his fork at us, voice oddly... calm.</p><p>Clay looks up, still smiling, totally unaware, opening his dumb fucking mouth to say more dumb fucking words. </p><p>"No? What? Of course not." He pauses for just a second. "Why would you think that?" He asks.</p><p>My dad blinks, then shrugs, stabbing his food with his fork and knife particularly hard. </p><p>"Just wondering why else you'd respond to my daughter saying 'daddy' is all." He says, voice flat. "Last time I checked, that role would be mine."</p><p>My eyes dart over to Clay just in time to watch him freeze. The hand he has on my thigh squeezes tight enough to hurt. The smile wipes off his face, lips parting in surprise. </p><p>"So. I'll repeat myself. Is there a child between the two of you that we don't know about? Because I can't think of any other reason for my daughter to be calling you 'daddy', young man." My father grits out, voice stern.</p><p>"No. I just— I was—" Clay stutters, fast, voice high. </p><p>My mom suddenly stands. "I would love some pie! Any for you dear?" She asks, staring at me.</p><p>I look at her, frozen, begging for help, unable to speak a word. </p><p>"No? That's too bad! More for me!" She chirps, disappearing, leaving me with... the situation I have wrought.</p><p>My father calmly sets his silverware down, lifting his napkin to wipe his hands. </p><p>"Why don't we go for a drive, son." He says, waving his hand to gesture Clay to stand up.</p><p>Big oof. I need to think quick. "U-um. That— it. It's because of a joke—" I sputter out, fast, finding the courage to hold eye contact with my fuming father. </p><p>He looks back at me, expectant. </p><p>"It's— Patches. There was this joke where I said I was her mom and he's her dad— and sometimes I'll talk to her in that context. Like, y'know, go wake up daddy." I say, then start awkwardly laughing. I honestly think it's a not half-bad excuse.</p><p>My father squints. "Even so. I think me and Clay could benefit from some one on one time." He says, voice stern, still trying to get him up.</p><p>I'm about to speak up again when my mother huffs, reappearing from the kitchen, and speaks first.</p><p>"John, leave the kid alone. She probably calls him daddy during sex. She's 20, not your little girl anymore." My mom says, unbothered, leaning against a wall, eating a whole pie with a fork.</p><p>Great. Thanks for that one, mom. </p><p>"I'm 21." I sigh, suddenly finding my lap a lot more interesting, face burning with heat. </p><p>Clay's hand slides closer, catching mine and holding tight, it's... grounding. He squeezes, once, then retracts, standing up. </p><p>"You want to drive or am I driving?" Clay asks.</p><p>I nearly whine, hooking my fingers into his sleeve, begging him to stay. My father stands up too, pushing his chair in and rounding the table for the door.</p><p>"I'll drive." My father says, then he's out the door. </p><p>I look up at Clay, pleading, tugging on his sleeve. "You know you don't have to—" I start.</p><p>He shakes his head, lifting his hand to cup my face and double over, kissing my forehead. </p><p>"It's fine baby. It's literally just a drive. I should probably talk to him, anyways." He says, quick, then he's walking away.</p><p>I watch his back as he steps out the door, closes it, then he's gone too. There's silence for only a moment, then my mother speaks. </p><p>"Men." She huffs, then goes right back to eating.</p><p>I squint at her. "I call him that during sex?" I question, quoting her, still pissed about it.</p><p>She shrugs, unbothered. "Was I wrong?" She never even looks up, just continuing to eat her pie.</p><p>I'm... distraught. I stand up, push my chair into the table, and walk away before I start screaming in frustration. I feel like a moody teenager as I stomp off.</p><p>"What a classic family Thanksgiving!" My mother coo's out from behind me, sounding smug. </p><p>I ignore it, rolling my eyes and heading straight for my childhood bedroom. I shut the door behind me, slam myself into my bed, and curl up. I just want to hide. I'm also going to cry, but, I don't want to talk about that. </p><p>This is going— as awful as possible.</p><p>***</p><p>"Hnnnn..." I groan.</p><p>There's something... tickling my face. I lift my hands to bat at it, still half asleep. I connect with it, but the tickle doesn't stop. I fuss, turning my head, trying to squirm away, slowly regaining consciousness.</p><p>"You're always fuckin' sleeping." I hear Clay mumble out, from somewhere absurdly close. </p><p>I crack my eyes open for that, trying to collect myself and my surroundings, groaning again. I realize I must've cried myself to sleep. I blink slowly, realizing the thing tickling me was his facial hair, dragging along my cheek as he works to bury himself in my neck.</p><p>"Wha't time..." I mumble, voice heavy and soft with sleep.</p><p>Clay immediately huffs a laugh, fingers curling into my turtleneck to pull it down and expose my skin so he can get his mouth on it. I tilt my head back, giving him better access, feeling soft and pliant. He immediately accepts, pushing forward to latch his mouth onto my throat, playing with the skin roughly. It makes me gasp, then shiver through a breathy moan.</p><p>"No more bruises..." I sigh out, lifting both arms to wrap them around his shoulders, eyes fluttering as I struggle to wake up.</p><p>"It's fine. Your sweater covers it." Clay mumbles against the skin, then bites down, using his mouth to mark me.</p><p>I moan, eyes rolling back in my head, liking it way too much to try and stop it. Plus... I like to be bruised like this. I like to see the claims blooming along my skin.</p><p>"What time?" I ask again, breathy, as Clay soothes the marks left with his tongue, genuinely seeking an answer. </p><p>"S'bout 2 pm." He says against my skin, then goes right back in.</p><p>Clay pushes hard enough that I mostly roll onto my back. He chases, getting half on top of me with his thigh planted between my legs. I shift, squeezing his leg with both of mine, sighing contentedly. My eyes flutter in distraction, brain slowly trying to form a thought. </p><p>He pops off my neck again, trailing his mouth up my neck to my jaw, mouthing there, softer.</p><p>"How was the drive?" I ask, sheepish, remembering the emotional turmoil that put me here in the first place.</p><p>Clay huffs another laugh, pulling back from my skin and leaning away so he can look at me. "Went fine." He says, like it's that simple.</p><p>I lift both brows, then use my hands to cup his face, scratching his facial hair because it scratched me. </p><p>"Yeah?" I ask.</p><p>"Yep." He says back.</p><p>I can't help that smile. "Good job, daddy." I say, teasing.</p><p>Clay rolls his eyes, lifting a hand to hold my face. He squeezes my cheeks, making my lips squish. "You're a problem maker." He says, shaking his head, letting his hand go loose.</p><p>I smile again, bright and massive. </p><p>"If there's a problem why don't you just solve it, big man?"</p><p>Clay sighs, annoyed, then leans in and pecks my lips, completely chaste. I try to deepen it, but get nowhere, him quickly pulling back. </p><p>"We probably have another 20 seconds before your dad busts your door down." He says, soft.</p><p>I squint, then pout. "So? I'm an adult. I can kiss." I say, trying to tug him back down, but he stays steady.</p><p>Clay shakes his head no. "No. I just got him on my team. I'm not gonna have him walk in on me tonguing you." He mumbles, chuckling.</p><p>I keep pouting. "A kiss is not tonguing." </p><p>He grins, looking smug. "That's true. But if I get my mouth on yours, I'm not gonna be able to handle myself. My tongue will just... slip in." He says.</p><p>I sneer. "Sounds like a you problem."</p><p>Suddenly, I hear my father yell our names from upstairs and startle. I meet Clay's eyes and start to giggle. </p><p>"Fine. I guess we better go. Get the fuck off of me, daddy." I say, continuing to tease, looking right at him.</p><p>Clay stays completely still for a moment, jaw ticking, staring right back down at me, keeping me pinned in place. I start to get nervous, faltering in my confidence as his eyes flick down my face. </p><p>"Sorry." I mumble out, quick. "I'll behave." I manage to say, looking away.</p><p>Clay hups, and finally stands up, freeing me. I swing up after him, and plaster to his side, wrapping both arms around his one, holding it tight. He lets me, taking the lead, heading back upstairs with me. </p><p>My father glares at us from the couch. I take in the scene. The table is... exactly as we left it. I realize I'm hungry, having only ate a bite or two of food before everything unfolded.</p><p>"Mom leave?" I ask, glancing at my father and detaching myself from Clay to sit at the table and finally eat. </p><p>"Yeah." He grunts, meeting my eyes for a second, looking almost apologetic, before he's back to watching football. </p><p>Clay hovers between us, plastered to the wall, just standing there. "I didn't think they'd take the lead." He mumbles, gesturing toward... something on the T.V. </p><p>My father perks up for that, and suddenly they're talking at each other, saying a bunch of stuff I couldn't ever be bothered to understand. I pull out my phone, deciding to scroll social media instead. I startle when I see several missed calls and texts from Ellie. I guess I'll eat later.</p><p>I immediately call her back, standing up and stepping outside for privacy.</p><p>"Hello?" Ellie speaks soft, quiet. </p><p>"Hey, hi, what's— what's going on? All the missed calls?" I ask immediately.</p><p>"Did you read my texts?" She asks, and I worry my lip.</p><p>"No, sorry, I saw the calls and impulse called back. I can read them right now?" I offer.</p><p>"Please." She says back. It's... small, quiet, fragile. It's not the Ellie I know. </p><p>Ellie 🐀<br/>5 New Messages<br/>'something bad happened'<br/>'to make a long story short i no longer have a car and im literally just walking around and i don't know what to fucking do and going home isn't an option anymore' <br/>'our apartment is like my only option'<br/>'and im scared and im alone and im so beyond upset and i just need someone and the first person i thought of was you'<br/>'please help' 1:22 pm</p><p>I take a shuddered inhale after finishing, trying to steady my panic. Panic isn't what she needs from me. I lift the phone back to my face. </p><p>"I'll come get you. We'll go home. Are you okay?" I ask. I know I have plans tonight and all weekend long but... this is taking immediate priority. They can be cancelled.</p><p>"Yeah, I'm okay for now." Ellie mumbles, soft. </p><p>"Want to tell me what went down?" I ask.</p><p>"No." She says back. "N-not— I can't. I just can't. I can tell you in person." </p><p>"Okay. That's okay. Text me where I can get you from." I say back. "Anything else before I hang up?" </p><p>There's silence for a moment, then a small: "Thank you. I'm sorry."</p><p>"It's not a problem." I say back quick, giving a reassuring smile that she can't even see, then hang up.</p><p>I bolt back inside, and go straight for my bags. Something hollows out low in my stomach, something like hurt, fear. Ellie must be... in an awful place right now. </p><p>"Who was that?" My father asks.</p><p>"Uh— it's um." I take a steadying breath so I don't freak out, feeling overwhelmed. "My roommate. Clay come help me." There's an undeniable wobble in my voice.</p><p>The second the words are out he's up, crowding against me, hands hesitantly trying to find a place to rest on my body. </p><p>"What's going on?" He asks, worried.</p><p>I shake my head, partially because I feel nonverbal, partially because I don't know what to say. </p><p>"I— can you just— can you come help me pack, please." I say.</p><p>Clay nods, face set, and follows me downstairs. We scramble to collect all of my clothes, just stuffing dirty and clean into the same messy bag, throwing electronics right on top, then barely managing to zip it up.</p><p>I shoot straight upstairs for my dad, not bothering to see if Clay's following. </p><p>"Dad?" I ask, small.</p><p>"What's up?" He asks back.</p><p>"My roommate um— there's something going on. I need to leave and take her home I'll— um. I'll probably just— I'll probably just stay with her. I'm—" </p><p>"Of course, kiddo. You can always come visit another time." He interrupts, then stands, giving me a half armed goodbye hug that I numbly return before breaking away. </p><p>I nod, tense, and hesitantly meet eyes with Clay who has his brow drawn tight in concern. I jerk my head, beckoning him to follow me out. He listens, sticking close by. The second we're out the door, he starts.</p><p>"Baby what's— are you leaving right now?" He asks, voice tight with concern. </p><p>I nod, continuing forward, swinging my car door open to throw my bags in the backseat. Clay helps me with it, hands hesitantly hovering toward me. </p><p>"Um—" I start again. "I don't know exactly what's going on but, Ellie needs a ride home. Like now. So I need to go do that for her." I say, exposing as much as I'm comfortable with. "I'm really sorry. I can't—"</p><p>Clay nods, suddenly stepping forward and wrapping me in a tight hug. It's grounding. It's... overwhelming. He's starting to become something incredibly important to me. Something... essential. I take a shuddered breath, letting myself melt into the affection. </p><p>"Don't worry about it baby. Do what you have to do. Everything else can wait." He says.</p><p>It's enough that I can collect myself, nodding against his chest, then pull back. I need to go. Like now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. glassy eyed (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cw: discussion of violence, panic attacks</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I lean forward, turning up the radio. I gave Ellie aux. She only put on one song, but her phone kept auto playing music. I'm trying my hardest to not shout sing along with it. I'm feeling a bit loopy and bored from the amount of time spent in this car. </p><p>I had to drive about an hour south to get to Ellie's home town. I found her seated on a public bench with absolutely nothing, no luggage. She hopped in, put on some music, scream sobbed, and quickly passed out. Which, I understand. I did the exact same thing today. So, essentially, I've made the drive alone. And I still have no clue what went down.</p><p>I yawn, probably because I only slept four hours last night, despite my cry nap. I glance in my mirror then merge to take my exit. At least this drive will be over soon, all four hours of it.</p><p>It's not long before I get us home. I reach over to shake Ellie awake as we pull into our parking lot. She briefly startles, flinching away from me before she turns toward me. I notice that during the drive she has... developed a bruise on her cheekbone. It makes my stomach go tight.</p><p>"We're here." I say quick, so that I don't ask about the bruise.</p><p>Ellie nods, clearly groggy, then shivers her way through a stretch. She hops out the second I've parked, snagging my keys and essentially bolting inside. I take a bit longer, having to grab my bag before I can follow her. I briefly consider going back down to Orlando tomorrow for just the weekend, and spending the time with Clay I was supposed to spend. </p><p>I don't see Ellie as I walk into our apartment. I head with my bag to drop it off in my room, startling when I see that she's already in my room, in my bed.</p><p>"Is it okay if I stay in here? I really don't want to be alone right now." Ellie asks, small and quiet.</p><p>I nod, fervent. "Yeah, of course." Well... maybe I won't be going anywhere.</p><p>My stomach is upset with concern, brow drawn tight enough to hurt as I glance at her. I debate for only a second before I'm climbing into bed, on top of her, wrapping her tight. I don't expect the way she just... crumbles, melting in my hold and shivering right back into a sob. I hold her through it, soothing her as much as I can.</p><p>Finally, she takes a heavy breath. "It's just so stupid..." She starts, through her sobs. "So fucking stupid."</p><p>I soothe her again. "What's stupid? What happened?" I question.</p><p>She shudders through another sob, then finally speaks. Her voice is... quiet, almost hesitant. "So like... it's— my sister's husband, Mark, right?" </p><p>I mhm, encouraging her.</p><p>"God it's just so stupid— I don't know. I don't even remember. We were just— eating our Thanksgiving meal and suddenly he's going off on some bullshit that was obviously bullshit so I call him out on it— and he just flips. And it escalates, and escalates, until we're just— yelling at each other. Which— that's fine, that happens. Arguments happen." </p><p>Ellie takes another breath and I nod, trying to be as encouraging as I can. "But then this... asshole started flashing his concealed carry and saying shit like 'I could end this argument right quick'. Like what? What? You gonna shoot me at the dinner table over a disagreement?" </p><p>My mouth is parted in surprise, at a total loss for anything I could say that could make any portion of that feel okay. Instead, I squeeze harder, just trying to reassure her in any way I can. She seems to understand, just barely flashing a smile. </p><p>"And like... obviously he's wrong in that situation, right?" </p><p>"Right." I say back, nodding.</p><p>"Right." She continues. "But my family, man. It was all 'well don't antagonize him', 'just apologize so we can eat' and I got so angry and things kept escalating and then he actually pulls the gun and now it's a screaming match and I'm jumping on his ass trying to get the gun out of his hands and I grab it and he punches me and takes it back. So I'm like... bye! I'm not sticking around for this. And I get all the way outside and he actually shoots my tire and fuck man." She lets out a shuddered breath, body trembling in my arms. </p><p>"The cops get called. I walked away. Called you. And now we're here and I'm still freaked. This guy pulled a gun on me. Like, what?" </p><p>"That's... it's... no. That's insane." I say back, as reassuring as I can manage, rubbing soothing circles with my thumbs. </p><p>Ellie puffs a sigh, shaking in my arms, extremely distressed. I can't blame her. I would be too. </p><p>"Well, anyways—" She starts again, letting out a hysterical laugh. "Almost got shot! How was your Thanksgiving before I ruined it?" </p><p>I frown, squeezing tighter. "You didn't ruin my Thanksgiving, freak." </p><p>I wait for Ellie to nod and accept the words before i dive back in, hugging her as tight as I can and burying my face in her neck. It gets her to laugh, at least, even though it's brief.</p><p>She slaps my back. "I asked a question! How was your Thanksgiving?" She repeats. </p><p>I hesitate. It just seems so weird to talk about it in any real capacity after what she went through. Her experience is insane.</p><p>"Um. It went okay. I was eating when you called."  I say, and decide that's good enough.</p><p>Ellie fully laughs for that. "I didn't really get to eat, either." She says back. </p><p>I perk up. "I can make you some dinner. I'm hungry too." I offer.</p><p>Ellie nods, looking vulnerable for a moment. "That would be nice. Thank you." </p><p>I take it as permission enough, collect myself, and wander out to the kitchen. I've barely started cooking when Ellie appears wrapped in a blanket and sits down on the kitchen floor. I can see the slight shiver in the way she's holding herself, and way her eyes look glazed over. This is seriously affecting her, but she's trying to stay numb. There's probably going to be multiple emotional outbursts as she slowly processes how messed up what happened is.</p><p>Ellie stays with me the entire time I cook, then plasters herself to my side as we eat, then follows me as I put away the leftovers, and crawls right back into bed with me once it's done. This time in bed, she's on her phone. I decide it's probably time I check mine as well.</p><p>Mom <br/>1 New Message<br/>'You left without saying goodbye! Your father told me there is an issue with your roommate. That is sad. I would have loved to spend more time with you. Thank you for coming home to visit. I love you.' 7:03 pm</p><p>I half smile for that, and text back a simple 'love u too'. There's a few other texts from friends and family, mostly pertaining to Thanksgiving. I shoot them all back something polite and brief, then finally indulge myself. </p><p>Daddy Dream <br/>3 New Messages<br/>'lmk how you are as soon as you can please and thank you' 3:37 pm</p><p>1 Attachment <br/>'wish u were here' 6:18 pm</p><p>The picture is him, cheesing, leaning back in a chair, with his arm hovering around an empty chair  I can tell he's at his table, with a smattering of his family in the back. I pout for just second. I must make a noise because Ellie leans in. </p><p>"What?" She asks, simple.</p><p>"Look at him." I coo out, tilting my phone for her. </p><p>Ellie reads it, then grimaces, despite her smile. "Ew. Y'all in love or something?" </p><p>I laugh, feeling my face warm, then read the message again, beaming at my phone. Before I can defend myself, Ellie pipes up again.</p><p>"Give me your phone and pretend to sit. I'll take a picture and then photoshop you into that pic and you can send it back."</p><p>I laugh, immediately springing to my feet and tossing the phone to her. I pause, letting her take a few photos, then fetch her laptop as requested. She sets it up right in my bed, still laying down, and quickly gets to work. I watch her do it in fascination, laying next to her with my head on her shoulder. The second she's done she sends it over and I send it right back to Clay. </p><p>I also think it's funny enough to post, so I do. I post it right to twitter, with the caption 'I WAS HERE 😎'.</p><p>I get a text back from Clay fairly quick.</p><p>'XD?'<br/>'did u secretly pick up on ps during college and just never told mE?' 7:59 pm</p><p>'ellie did it :p'<br/>'blame her 😚' 8:00 pm</p><p>'how is she?'<br/>'what happened?' 8:00 pm</p><p>Ah. Back to reality it is. </p><p>"Do you mind if I let Clay know what went down? Just y'know— so he knows why I'm not coming back." I ask.</p><p>Ellie nods, despite the hesitancy in her face. "Yeah, but— I'd rather— do you mind if I do the talking? I want to make sure the story doesn't get mixed up anywhere in case there's something legal—" </p><p>I nod, and press call. </p><p>Clay quickly answers. "Hey? Baby? What's going on?" </p><p>I hesitate, looking for the phrasing. "Are you free to talk right now?" Is what I end up with.</p><p>"I mean— yeah. I can be. Give me a sec to step out." He says. I hear him say a couple things through the background chattering, then the sound of a door opening. "Alright. What's uh— what's up?"</p><p>"I'm not coming back at all this weekend um— I need to be up here." I start, "I'm gonna pass you to Ellie so she can explain." I say, then do.</p><p>She gives Clay the exact same run down she gave me, then passes the phone back. Clay's silent for a moment, then: "Fuck. Alright. Are you guys gonna be okay feeling safe? I could come up and—"</p><p>"It's fine. We'll be fine." I interrupt. "It seems like a heat of the moment thing to me. But, I'd rather not leave Ellie alone, y'know." I finish, glancing at her and seeing she's chewing her cheek, looking guilty. I lift a hand to hold her arm. </p><p>"No. Yeah totally. I get that. Just uh— text me. Keep me updated." Clay says back.</p><p>"Of course. I'll let you get back to your family. Love you." My mouth parts in surprise as I say the last part. It's been feeling like a natural statement, recently. </p><p>"Yeah. Love you too." Clay says back, and I can hear that he's smiling. </p><p>I roll my eyes, smiling back, and hang up. I look over to Ellie, seeing she still looks hesitant, apologies on the tip of her tongue. I say something before she can, hoping to soothe her guilt like that. </p><p>"Movie?" I ask, tossing my phone down on my desk. </p><p>Ellie nods, looking relieved, then we're off to the living room.</p><p>***</p><p>We make it through a movie and half before Ellie's phone starts ringing, constant. After the fifth time, she huffs, looking like she's about to cry, and stands up, answering it. I chew my lip, watching her go, and pause the movie. I can hear how upset she is in the way that she answers. I hurt for her, but she obviously wants to do this alone. </p><p>I take the opportunity to go check my phone in my room. I find it, turn it on, and my brow immediately furrows. There's... a massive amount of notifications.  Specifically, several missed calls, texts, and voicemails from Clay, then a stack from Twitter. </p><p>I go to check the texts first.</p><p>Daddy Dream <br/>7 New Messages<br/>1 Attachment<br/>...</p><p>I feel my heart thud in my chest, too caught on the image to read the rest of what he's sent. It's a screenshot of a tweet. </p><p>'Why this is Dream, a thread with definitive proof' </p><p>Um? </p><p>I go straight to Twitter to hundreds of follow requests and mentions. It takes me seconds to find the tweet. It's a block of text, then multiple screenshots of my account and my tweets. The picture Ellie photoshopped, the 'ur in his dm's he's in my guts 🤪', George following me, and everything I've ever tweeted at Clay... then... a picture from Halloween. It's me, climbing into Clay's lap, holding two shots, feeding him whiskey from my mouth. </p><p>I drag a hand down my face. Alright, then. I guess we know who the snitch is: one of the three fucking clowns from Halloween. </p><p>But— that wouldn't make sense? I met them after I blocked George, and way after I deleted the first tweet. There's a sense of dread crawling along my skin, something about this feeling... incredibly off. I head straight for Ellie, on my way to ask her how, exactly, she met her friends. </p><p>As I walk into her room, I freeze up. She's sat on the foot of her bed, doubled over, taking in gasping breaths. I nearly run up, hands briefly faltering. </p><p>"Shit." Ellie chokes out between gasps. </p><p>"Can I touch you? Will that help?" I ask, fast. It's different for everyone, so I don't want—</p><p>"Yes." She says back, breath stuttered. </p><p>I collapse to sitting with her, wrapping her tight, soothing my hands down her back. "Breathe— just. Just breathe with me." I mumble, then take in a long inhale. </p><p>Ellie nods, following along. It takes a few minutes, but we eventually get to the point where she's breathing normal, though still sniffling and crying. </p><p>"What happened?" I ask.</p><p>Ellie shakes her head, tight-lipped, then takes her phone out and starts typing. She types a paragraph, then passes me the phone.</p><p>'apparently mark kepvt freaking out like even after i left and the cops interviewed him and he got drunk and got even angrier n he dissappeare dsaying some shit about me and like he doesnt like know where. We live orr anything but like i dont mknwo'</p><p>"Uh—" I start, "Okay." I let my brain kick into autopilot, standing up and grabbing a bag and packing it. "We aren't staying here." I say, quick.</p><p>Ellie nods, standing up as well, helping to pack her bag. I lift my phone, seeing the multitude of notifications, and decide I can't deal with all of that on top of this right now. </p><p>So, I text Clay. 'Hey. I don't have time to read everything that's going on. I have a lot to worry about with Ellie right now. I'm probably going to turn my phone off so I can focus on getting to a safe place. I'm really sorry I can't be a better support right now. I love you. Sorry, again.' </p><p>Next, still on auto-pilot, I start calling hotels. Every single one gives the same answer. "Sorry, we're booked, it's Thanksgiving." Fuck. Dread starts to hollow me out. I don't want to be stuck here. All of my friends also went home for Thanksgiving. I don't know what the fuck to—</p><p>I have a glimmer of an idea. A maybe— a perhaps. </p><p>A last ditch.</p><p>I chew my lip, lifting my phone, and press call.</p><p>"Hey miss 7/11, I never got my cake—" Harvey says, answering.</p><p>"Hey— I'm sorry. Can I ask a big favor?" I open. I don't even know if he's going to be home— it's literally Thanksgiving. This is kind of— a shot in the dark.</p><p>"Yeah? What? What's up?" He asks.</p><p>I puff a nervous breath. "Would it be alright if my roommate and I came and crashed for a night? I promise we'll be out of your hair like— as soon as we can."</p><p>"What? Why? Are you guys getting evicted?" He asks, laughing.</p><p>I hesitate, glancing at Ellie. "Uh— for the sake of full transparency— my roommate's sister's husband threatened her with a gun then disappeared to come find her, so like..." </p><p>"Wh— uhh— shit. Okay. Yeah. Apartment 32. It's on the third floor." He says.</p><p>I'm shocked for a moment. I didn't... honestly think it'd be that easy. Harvey the fucking life saver, I guess. Literally. I owe him more than a cake. I owe him... five cakes. </p><p>"Thank you. I owe you my life." I say back.</p><p>"It's— no problem, really." Harvey says. </p><p>"Okay. We'll be over in a few, bye." I say, then hang up.</p><p>"I've got— we can crash at my buddy's for the night. We'll see where we stand tomorrow." I say to Ellie, then head to my room to pack my bag.</p><p>I want to cry, but I know I can't. Ellie's... a fucking mess. I'm the one that needs to stay steady. So, I do. Glassy eyed and dazed, shutting off my emotions the same way I shut off my phone, letting the numb take control. </p><p>I can do this.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. point of view (plot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harvey is a good man.</p><p>We spend the first night with him and his boyfriend. The next day, Mark is still nowhere to be found. I try to look for a hotel, but he shuts it down, quick, with 'it's no problem', 'stay here', 'wouldn't you rather have two bodyguards'. And honestly... yeah. I would. It feels safer. Plus, the line of communication and entertainment is nice. I purposefully left my phone and laptop turned off at my apartment.</p><p>We end up staying with him all the way through the weekend. Sunday, Mark finally shows up, at his own home, still drunk, apparently coming off of a bender. The call is relieving. It... should be relieving. Ellie and I decide it's okay to go back home. I should want that. But there's... hesitancy, nerves— something burning a hole in my chest. </p><p>I try to delay.</p><p>"Can I make you that cake before I go?" I ask. </p><p>Harvey shrugs. "I mean. Yeah. Sounds delicious." </p><p>So, I do, wasting time distracting myself by baking. When I have a goal I don't have to spend time thinking. Hm.</p><p>I'm avoiding it, aren't I?</p><p>I let out a massive sigh, staring down at a pan filled with batter as I realize. Now that the immediate threat is settled... I have to think about what else is going on in my life. Which is something I've desperately been pushing away. I let out a massive sigh.</p><p>"Woah— big ole sigh." Harvey says, striding in to drop a cup in his sink.</p><p>I glance up at him, briefly feeling embarrassed. "Sorry. Got a lot on the noggin." I mumble.</p><p>He immediately hops up and sits on the counter, staring at me. "Do tell, do tell. I love to consume the tumultuous details of the lives of anyone that isn't me." He says, tone teasing. </p><p>I sneer back, but quickly let myself go soft. "Can I have some confidentiality? If I spill?" I ask, chewing my lip.</p><p>His brows lift. "Of course. I'm no snitch." </p><p>I huff a laugh for that, then frown down at the pan. "So you remember how I have a boyfriend that I pissed off?" I ask.</p><p>"Yep. I sure do remember Daddy D." He says back.</p><p>I briefly glare. "So his name is Clay— the contact name is a joke."</p><p>He raises his hands. "Clay it is, ma'am." </p><p>"Okay so like... he's famous within a niche, but likes to hold himself kind of— anonymously. And I kinda fucked it up by—"</p><p>"Oh, he's Dream, right?" Harvey asks, and I immediately freeze, fish mouthing at him.</p><p>"Y-yeah." I say, quick. "He's Dream." I say, eyeing him.</p><p>"Damn. Yeah. I saw everything that's popping off on Twitter. Rough stuff." He says. </p><p>I keep eyeing him. </p><p>"Oh— I'm— I'm into the Minecraft Youtube scene. Had a hunch because of his contact name and uh— you're literally in the pictures." He continues.</p><p>I duck my head. "Oh. I mean, I'm gonna be completely honest, I have no idea exactly what's going on. Haven't looked at any of it."</p><p>"I mean. Nothing wrong with hiding from social media for a bit until things blow over. It's you guy's relationship, so you can keep that discussion private."</p><p>I curl in on myself. "Haven't talked to him either. I uh— I turned my phone off and left it in my apartment." </p><p>Harvey nods. "Ah— I was wondering. Haven't seen you check anything. Thought you might just be phone shy." </p><p>I shake my head. "Nope just... a coward." </p><p>He lifts a hand, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, the tweet is gone, and a good majority of the people who saw it are like 'hey that's not even Dream don't spread that' so..."</p><p>I nod, swallowing tears. "I mean it... yeah. I guess a little. But I just feel like such a fucking dick. Like, what am I supposed to say to him? I'm sorry you got exposed because I'm stupid? I'm sorry I'm stupid? So I'm... avoiding it so I can sort the words, I think."</p><p>Harvey hums, brows lifting. "You want to know what I think?" He asks.</p><p>I nod.</p><p>"Okay..." He starts. "If I were in his shoes... I wouldn't care about anything else other than the fact that my partner hasn't contacted me in like four days. I'd be... very concerned about that. Nothing else. It's just a face, anyways. What's the last thing you said to him?" </p><p>I briefly think. "Something about finding a safe place to— oh shit." I realize exactly how bad it might seem.</p><p>I need to text Clay asap. "I think I need to leave and go clarify some things and be an adult." I say, shrugging the apron I borrowed off. "Put the cake in for 55 minutes once the oven beeps." I command, then make my way out of the kitchen, packing my stuff up. </p><p>I need to just... brace myself and see what Clay has to say, or at least tell him I'm alright, especially after how cryptic my last message could be seen as. Oh my God that last message was bad— </p><p>I rush getting my stuff together and getting out the door, leaving Ellie behind for now. She's taking a nap, anyways. It's a good thing it's literally a walk across the parking lot. I shuffle over to my apartment, key myself in, and go straight for my room. It's weird that it feels almost foreign to be here, in a way. We've really been locked down at Harvey's for four straight days. But, now we know where Mark is at, and nothing came of the situation. </p><p>That's how life is sometimes. Better safe than sorry.</p><p>I turn my phone on, impatiently drumming my fingers. What the fuck do I even say? Hey I'm sorry, also I'm sorry, by the way I'm sorry. Oh, and I'm not dead! Teehee! </p><p>I lift a thumb, gnawing the nail, lost in my head. I'm startled from the thought when I hear my front door open. I duck back into my room. What the fuck. Who the fuck— am I stupid? </p><p>I take in a ragged breath, entire body held tense. It's broken as I hear a voice. It's— Clay? And he's calling my name. His tone is shaky, ungrounded, almost raspy. I blink for a moment, letting my heart come back from outer space, and slowly rise to standing. </p><p>"Clay? I'm in my room." I call out, sounding just as ungrounded. </p><p>I can hear the uptick in his movement, focused as he barrels into my room looking around wildly. There's a moment where his eyes meet mine and he completely freezes, then he shudders into an exhale.</p><p>"Oh thank Christ." He breathes out, then he's charging me. </p><p>Clay lands his hands on me, gripping hard, like it's the last time he'll ever hold me, then we sink straight to the ground. I falter with my hands, still somewhat in shock as he props his back up against my closet door and buries his face in my neck. </p><p>I manage to land my hands on his shoulders, holding as he drags in an extended inhale. Something about it is choked, wet, and I slowly realize he's crying into my neck. I'm... surprised to say the least.</p><p>"Hey. I'm fine. Sorry about the... cryptid ass message." I mumble, soothing with my hands. </p><p>He nods into my neck, but only holds tighter, like he needs to feel everything of me on everything of him. Which... in his shoes... I might act the same. </p><p>"Fuck. I was so fucking— fuck." He bites out, voice still uneven.</p><p>I dig into Clay's shoulders with my fingers, holding as tight as I physically can. "I'm fine big man. I'm okay. It's okay." I continue.</p><p>He shivers in my hold. It's weird to feel him like this, vulnerable, scared, small. It makes the ache in my stomach go tight, almost unbearable. It's hard to know... I did this. I push forward until our cheeks are pressed, then rub mine to his face, briefly flinching from the scratch of his stubble.</p><p>"You're breaking my heart, right now." I mumble. </p><p>Clay pushes into the contact with a wet breath. "I'm breaking your heart, right now?" </p><p>"Yeah. You are." I say, resolute. </p><p>It gets the smallest of laughs out of him, before he's burying himself back in my neck. Though, his hands seem a little less tight. </p><p>"I just—" Clay starts, "I didn't know with the message— and you disappeared, and then everything going on—" His voice lowers to something quiet and soft, "I— I can't lose you. You're necessary to me."</p><p>I let my hands go tight again, heart and brain simultaneously processing the statement.</p><p>"I'm—" I start, then immediately stutter to a stop, searching for the words. "Yeah. You too." Is what I come up with, too overwhelmed by emotions otherwise. </p><p>Why is that... terrifying to me? That— someone has that kind of grasp over the way I feel. That... at some point this became necessary, inevitable. </p><p>We're silent for just a moment, breathing, before I come back in. "I'm so sorry about the pictures— I think it was one of Ellie's friends. I don't—" </p><p>"It's okay." He says back, before I can finish.</p><p>I shake my head. "It's not okay. None of it is okay. It's my fucking fault and I fucked up and—"</p><p>"It's fine. Baby, it's just my fucking face. I don't care." Clay interrupts again. </p><p>My lips part in surprise, tears welling in my throat. "No. Why is it 'fine?' I accidentally took the choice of anonymity from you for a few jokes, and now, I don't know, thousands of people are arguing over your appearance and whether it's you and I know it can't all be positive and—"</p><p>"True. But, you're forgetting something. It's me. It's my face. It's not your responsibility to walk on eggshells. Yeah, you posted a couple jokes. Some creep screenshotted them and created speculation. But that's on them and me. I don't— I don't care."</p><p>I whimper, feeling the emotions I've tried to dull, surge. </p><p>"I just— I don't want— is it not terrifying to you? The way people will judge and define you based upon my mistake? Based upon me?" I ask.</p><p>Clay half-smiles, cupping my face and squeezing me closer. "I'm a grown man. I can make choices like that and get hurt by them. You don't need to hurt for me." He says, soft.</p><p>I huff a laugh, but it's mostly as a defense so that I don't cry. I didn't realize I was so worried about this with the way I was preoccupied with Ellie. </p><p>I pull back, lifting to stare down at Clay. His eyes are red, puffy, tear-worn. I can't judge, mine are likely similar. I shift my arms, curling them further around his shoulders, staring down at him. </p><p>"Sorry. I can be a little jaded." I say, then sniffle. </p><p>Clay looks like he's about to smile, but it wipes off his face. His eyes look unfocused as they flick, searching my expression. It makes something seed in the pit of my stomach, nerves and fear blooming into my chest as he stays silent, looking at me with the most vulnerable expression I've ever seen on him. </p><p>I lift one hand to cup Clay's face, and he instantly turns into it. Still, his expression and eyes are unwavering in the way they stay locked to me. His lips part, dragging in a shuddered breath, and I brace.</p><p>"I think—" He starts, taking another breath, "I think you're it for me. I think I'm done. Y'know? I'm done for." He says.</p><p>I blink, searching the severity of his expression, melting into a smile. "Like I'll be the death of you one day?" I ask, trying to tease and lighten the gravity of the situation.</p><p>He shakes his head, not faltering. "No." He starts, then takes another shuddered breath, opening his mouth to speak again.</p><p>***</p><p>(special, pov is y/n's father)</p><p>*** </p><p>This fucking kid.</p><p>I knew it. And when I say I knew it I mean I knew it. </p><p>'Dad, Clay's just a friend!', 'It's not like that!', 'You're being so unprogressive when you act like we can't just be friends!' </p><p>I slam my car door. I know I'm posturing, and I know I shouldn't be, but this is driving me up the wall. Daddy? Daddy? She calls this weasel daddy? </p><p>I thought I did a decent job, decent enough to not give her... issues of that sort. But, I guess I messed up somewhere along the way, because my twenty-one year old daughter is calling this twenty-one year old boy daddy, apparently. </p><p>I glare, purposefully, as Clay opens the passenger door and hops in shot-gun. He can't seem to meet my eyes. Good. How it ought to be. </p><p>I glare one more time, then shift into reverse. </p><p>I maintain stiff, tense silence, creating an atmosphere. I don't look at him, don't acknowledge him, just grip the wheel and drive. I need the moment to build my rage. </p><p>I can't believe this is what my baby chose. I swear, it wasn't 15 years ago that those big eyes were turned up at me as she asked me to pick her up and swing her around. Now they're on this fucking kid. </p><p>My wife's statement briefly rings in my head. During sex. I white knuckle the wheel. I know she's an adult, but I just don't want to know what my baby does behind closed doors. I can't handle the thought. </p><p>We finally get to a stoplight, and the words spill out. </p><p>"If you're leading her on or using her I'll kill you, son."</p><p>Ah, shit. I shouldn't have said that. My wife would have my damn neck if she knew I said that. </p><p>The kid shifts in his seat, briefly nodding. "Yeah— I'd kill me too. I'd never—" He huffs, then goes silent.</p><p>I feel my brow draw. I wasn't anticipating this energy. I expected fighting or ass kissing. I still remember a few years ago when I picked him and my baby up from a party he invited her to. Drunk. The next day it was 'yes sir' and 'no sir'. I would appreciate that energy again. </p><p>"How did you know?" He asks, suddenly breaking the silence.</p><p>I feel my brow furrowing as I spare a glance, seeing he's staring down into his lap where his hands are clasped, worrying his lip. </p><p>"Know what? That you were into my daughter? Kid, it wasn't—" </p><p>"No, no. Not that." Clay interrupts. "Like with your wife. How did you know that was it for you?" He asks.</p><p>I feel my brow crease even deeper. "I don't know. Why do you ask?" </p><p>"I just—" He starts, then takes a deep breath. I glance over, seeing he's still worrying his lip, eyes distant as they stay locked to the floor. "I was always so fucking sure, all the time, that your daughter would be it for me. All I had to do was land her and then I'd keep her forever but—"</p><p>"Ah—" I interrupt, shaking my head. "Keep her? She's not an object, son." </p><p>I hear the panic in his voice as he clarifies. "No— no I know— I got that. I know that. Trust me. I-I know that." He pauses to take a shaky breath. </p><p>I briefly consider jumping back in, reaming his ass for the choice of words. 'Keep' her. Like my daughter is a prize for him to claim. But, he sounds genuine. I decide to let it slide, hear him out first, and decide if I need to act protectively afterwards. </p><p>"I think about your daughter all the fucking time." He starts, almost frantic. "It's— it's— it's like a goddamn itch that I cannot scratch. I thought it would fade away once we started dating, y'know, turn into something comfortable, but it's worse. It's— it's—" He pauses to breathe and I glance again. </p><p>His eyes are wide, chest rising and falling with panted breaths, hands white knuckling his own thighs. "It's more. I think about her more. And it's suffocating and terrifying and the best feeling in the world all at once—"</p><p>I lift my brows. Alright kid. A healthy obsession, hopefully. I don't expect him to continue, but he does. </p><p>"Before I was dating her I felt so fucking sure." He says, then punches his door. </p><p>I want to tell him off, but... I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been there before. I tense my jaw, looking away, letting him have the moment. </p><p>"She'd be it. But now it's like... what if I fuck up? What if I'm not good enough? Y'know? Before it was always just— ah she just doesn't know yet. But, now it's like I'm on stage just waiting for her to go 'I'm bored of you. I'm tired of you.' But the more scared I get, the more there's more there. It's— i-it's." He stops again.</p><p>I glance over, seeing he's palming his eyes and quickly turn back, allowing him the privacy. </p><p>"What's your question, son?" I ask after a moment.</p><p>The kid takes a shuddered breath. "How did you know? Like when you proposed to your wife, right, there was something right? You felt sure? You knew you'd be it for her? You weren't scared?"</p><p>I feel something break for the boy. </p><p>"Ah, kid. No. Not at all. I nearly pissed myself the entire day. Worst and best day of my life. I threw up in the bathroom right before I proposed." I glance over, seeing him nodding. "If you're asking me for permission to propose that's a hard fucking no, by the way, I just—" </p><p>"No. No. It was just an example. I mean. Maybe one day. But, God, not any time soon." He says, quick, but there's a vulnerability breaking through his emotional outburst of anger. </p><p>Oh damn. This poor kid. He's in love, like love love, with my baby.</p><p>"You'll know." I mumble out, finally dropping the facade of harshness from my voice.</p><p>Clay manages to look over, meeting my eyes, expression going soft as well. "How?" He asks.</p><p>I nearly smile, shaking my head, honestly thinking about it, then shrug.</p><p>"I don't know. That's all there is to it. You'll know. One day you'll feel that pull in the back of your head that just says 'That's it. I'm done. There's no one else. It's her.' and nothing else will be enough. You'll... you'll know." </p><p>I don't expect the way he goes silent, curling in on himself, nodding. That wasn't the conversation I expected to have on this car-ride but... I'll it count as good enough. Maybe he's not so bad. </p><p>***</p><p>I drive around awhile longer, waiting for the kid to collect himself before heading back home. I hop out the car before him, heading to go inside. As I try to walk in the door my wife is walking out.</p><p>"About that time?" I ask. I must've caught her on her way out to work.</p><p>"Yeah." She chirps back, switching her briefcase to her other hand. "Our little toad stomped off to cry. I heard her snoring." She says, then takes the arm she freed to wrap me in a hug. </p><p>I wrap her right back, pressing a kiss to her cheek, mind heavy with the words spoken during the car ride.</p><p>"How'd the talk go? He alive in there?" My wife asks, eyes briefly looking over to where Clay is, still in the car. </p><p>I shake my head. "Oh yeah. He's in love. He'll... he's not gonna hurt her." I say.</p><p>My wife's brows lift. "She must've chose well if he managed to tame the beast in under an hour. You've always disliked him." She says, then slaps my chest. </p><p>I laugh then press another kiss to her cheek that she returns. </p><p>"Okay. Bye dear." She says, breaking away.</p><p>I let her go, finishing going inside and sitting on the couch. It's another ten or fifteen minutes before Clay appears looking worse for wear, wiping at his face. I'll give him the dignity of not questioning that. </p><p>I briefly look up from my phone. "Toady is downstairs in bed. Why don't you wash your face and wake her up. I'll give you five minutes, but if you take any longer than that I'm coming down there."</p><p>Clay nods. "Thanks." He mumbles, then he's gone.</p><p>I groan in disgust, knowing he's probably about to go kiss my baby, and decide to throw the television on to distract myself. Football. Loud.</p><p>I keep track of the time. The second five minutes is up I shout their names as a warning. 30 more seconds until I'm up. Luckily for them, it only takes 20 before I hear their footsteps on the stairs. </p><p>I look up just in time to watch them both come up, heads ducked. As much as I wish I didn't, I can tell exactly what they were up to. As I continue to glare, there's a moment, it's small, but unmissable, where my daughter looks up at Clay, tightens her hands around his arm, and just... lights up. Everything about her face goes soft. I know what it's like being looked at like that.</p><p>Ah, kid. That's it, huh? It's over. For both of you.</p><p>I huff a laugh watching them stare at each other. They'll know. They just need a little time. </p><p>"Mom leave?" My daughter asks, and I'm startled from my thought, glancing up hesitantly. </p><p>"Yeah." I say, simple, then turn back to the T.V. before I give something away. </p><p>There's something about young love. I should take my wife out sometime. Slow dance, get looked at like that again.</p><p>"I didn't expect them to take the lead." Clay says, and I look over again, sitting up to attention, seeing he's hovering awkwardly nearby.</p><p>Football? I can talk about that. That's easy.</p><p>***</p><p>(end pov)</p><p>***</p><p>"It's like, I just— I know, now. I'm done." Clay says.</p><p>"What?" I ask back, brow starting to furrow. I don't know if I'm stupid, but I don't get it.</p><p>He just shakes his head. "There's nothing else to say. I know. Thats all. I just know." </p><p>I stare at him for a moment, computing. I don't understand, but I drop it, lifting my brows. "Okay... Go ahead and know, then... freak." I tag on the last word with a laugh.</p><p>It gets him to smile, lifting both hands to squish my face. "I will. I'll spend my life knowing." He says. </p><p>There's a... feeling that tells me I'm missing something. I shake it, leaning forward to collapse into his chest. I've had a tough few days, and that was an exhausting conversation. I just want to melt for a bit, feeling happy and safe, the way I always do with him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. it’s me. i’m your little helper. (plot, smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So..." I start, then have to sniffle again, still weepy. "Do you always break into your girlfriend's apartments, or am I special?" </p><p>Clay laughs, somewhat brief. "Yeah. You're special." </p><p>I rub my face into his chest, essentially wiping my eyes with his shirt. </p><p>"Good." I start, mumbling. "I love to be special." I sniffle one more time. "Seriously though, your timing is... impeccable. I was not in this apartment five minutes before you showed up." </p><p>"What? Where even— where were you? Wh—what do you mean?" He asks back.</p><p>I keep rubbing into his chest with my cheek. "So— Mark like... disappeared and—" I start, feeling Clay immediately tense in my hands.</p><p>I pat him. "Chill. It's all good now. Um... so... he disappeared and we went to stay with Harvey across the way for the weekend. I left my phone here because I freaked out over the face thing and— I'm sorry, again by the way." </p><p>Clay huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. "I promise it's okay, baby. It's just my face."</p><p>"No. Not the face." I say, then pull back until we're making eye-contact. "I understand that was okay. I'm talking about my... tendency to dip the fuck out when things get hard. It's inconsiderate of what you might need from me for me to just... shut down like that."</p><p>Clay nods, once, and I soothe my hands down his shoulders. He squeezes me tighter, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek. </p><p>Ugh.</p><p>"You really... you have every right to be mad at me, y'know? And you just... you're not." I feel myself melt. "You're such a good man." I mumble out.</p><p>He presses another kiss. "Everything happens for a reason. Probably." </p><p>I tilt my head, staring him down. "Yeah? You think this weekend was some kind of destiny? You believe in fate?"</p><p>Clay shrugs. "I think I have to. I mean I— I landed you." He says, then smiles at me, face slowly flooding with color.</p><p>I immediately pout. "You did not just— stop it. I can't deal with that, you're— God Clay." I mash my face back into his chest. "Say something funny. I don't want to cry again." </p><p>He laughs, dragging one hand up to pet my hair. "But don't you know who I am?" </p><p>I lean back so I can stare him down, seeing he's split into a pleased grin. "What? The coochie man?" I ask, deadpan.</p><p>He shakes his head, grin growing. "I'm Mr. Loverman. And I missed my lover, man." He says, voice barely pitched. </p><p>I blink at him. "Okay, so, I would have preferred coochie man." </p><p>Clay huffs a laugh, circling to cup my chin instead of pet my hair. He squeezes me in his grip. "Fine. I'm the coochie man." He says, then drags his thumb along my lip. </p><p>I flit my eyes down his face, following as his gaze briefly falters to watch his thumb part my mouth.</p><p>"Now... you know exactly what you're doing." I say, quick, moving a hand to drag my nails against his neck. </p><p>"Oh?" He asks, coy, then pushes his thumb into my mouth. I can't help that my eyes flutter as I immediately accept. "What would that be? I'm not familiar." He asks, low and quiet.</p><p>I can feel my breath hitch, lips tightening around his thumb. This time, he watches unabashed. </p><p>"Am I stupid?" Clay asks, after a moment of fucking my mouth with his fingers.</p><p>I briefly pause. "Yes." I say, then get right back to it.</p><p>He huffs. "That's not— I wasn't done." He says, grumbly, lifting his hips against me with a soft exhale. "I was saying— am I stupid? Have you always been this into hands? My hands?"</p><p>I pause again, pulling off and just staring at Clay for a moment while he stares back. </p><p>"Yes." I say again, just as simple, then drop my own hands, one to hold his wrist, the other to curl against his chest as I guide his fingers back to my face.</p><p>He swallows, breath getting deeper. "God I love to watch you like this. Such a pretty—" He sighs out, stuttering to a stop as I roll my hips down into his lap. "—my pretty little slut with an oral fixation." </p><p>I bat my eyes, mouthing at Clay's fingers as he watches, entranced. I can tell I have him soft and agreeable at this point, and finally pull off. </p><p>"Hey." I start, watching as his eyes forcibly flick back to my face. "You wanna have make up sex?" I ask, like that's a normal question to ask.</p><p>Clay immediately nods. "Yeah. I want—" He starts, breathy, finally looking like he's looking at me instead of my lips. "You wanna do something for me?" He asks.</p><p>I furrow my brow. "Do what?" </p><p>"Sit on my face?"  He asks, and I pause.</p><p>I... what? My mouth parts in surprise.  "That's not what I expected to come out of your mouth." I say, tilting my head.</p><p>"Yeah?" He asks, brows lifting. "Well hopefully you'll be expecting to cum on my mouth—" He tapers off, looking sheepish as I glare him down.</p><p>Before I can speak, I hear the front door open. I split into a smile as I watch the disappointment start to form his expression.</p><p>"Ellie? That you?" I call out, then roll my hips into Clay's lap.</p><p>He exhales, surprised, darting both hands up to hold my hips and me in place. I keep smiling down at him as he shakes his head. I roll again, just to mess with him.</p><p>"Yeah. You in your room?" I hear Ellie reply.</p><p>"Yeah." I call back, and roll my hips again, just for good measure. </p><p>Clay's glaring at this point, hands on my hips forcibly adjusting me down his thighs and off the center of his lap. We both hear Ellie walk down the hall and open my door. He tugs me back up to where I was, covering the hard situation I just caused.</p><p>Ellie steps in, eyes landing on Clay. She gives him a puzzled look. </p><p>"Hey?" She turns her eyes toward me. "When—"</p><p>"Like... twenty minutes ago." I reply back. </p><p>Clay briefly glares at me before turning his gaze up to Ellie.</p><p>"Hey. How is everything?" He asks, like a good man, ignoring the way I just barely rock down into his lap, imperceptible to anyone but me and him. </p><p>Ellie exhales, sinking down to lay on the floor next to us. "Been better. I'm not gonna lie I'm glad to see you. Might be nice to have you around for a little."</p><p>"Oh." Clay starts, surprised. "I have to— I'm not here for long. I have to go home tonight. I have— my cat. She needs food." He says.</p><p>I pout for that. I didn't have that information. "You do?" I ask.</p><p>He nods. "Yeah. Sorry." He confirms.</p><p>So he came down here, planning to be here for less than a day? Was he... that freaked out? I feel guilt settle in my stomach, teasing mood gone as I lean back into his chest and settle my head there, wrapping my arms around his core. He wraps me right back.</p><p>He's such a good man. Why is he so good? I feel like an asshole.</p><p>"Oh that sucks. Why are you— why'd you come up then?" Ellie asks.</p><p>I laugh. Right, she has no idea. </p><p>"Long story. Remember your friends from Halloween?" I start.</p><p>She groans. "Yeah. They all dropped me after that." She says. "I didn't think we were that weird." </p><p>I hum. "Remember the Clay yadda yadda, fake name yadda yadda?" </p><p>She nods. "Sure, yeah. How could I forget Mr. Dré?" </p><p>I pause for a moment, looking up to seek Clay's permission to speak on the details. He nods, so I barrel forward, explaining everything. Ellie laughs when I'm done. </p><p>"Fuck me. Sorry. I should have— yeah." She thinks for a moment. "Fuck. Okay. That makes sense." She says, still thinking.</p><p>"What?" I ask, curious to know what break-through she's having. </p><p>"I met um. I met Ally at our Spring Break party. The one Clay was at. She asked me about him a couple times. I didn't— I didn't think about it because I didn't know he was like someone you know? But in retrospect. Yeah. I uh— yeah. That was my mistake." Ellie finishes.</p><p>"Ah." I say.</p><p>"Ah." Clay says.</p><p>I go to check my Twitter, seeing I have her added. That makes sense. She knew. I block her.</p><p>"Fucking weird." Ellie mumbles out. "Sorry." </p><p>"It's no problem." Clay clarifies quickly. "It's annoying but I don't like... actually care."</p><p>Well, at least we know who, now. I sigh, feeling even more drained. "Wanna watch a movie and mentally check out?" I ask, and get two yes's in return.</p><p>So we do, relocating to the living room, Clay and I on the floor, Ellie on the couch. I make it maybe 30 minutes before I turn into him, pressing my face into his neck and settling in for a nap. He seems to be a fan, holding me tight, idly jamming his hands up my shirt so we can be skin to skin as we wrap up in each other.</p><p>It almost feels like a waste of our small amount of time together... but it's not. It's worthwhile, and just for a moment, it's quiet. </p><p>***</p><p>The next three weeks... are hell.</p><p>I have an exam, paper, or project due every single day. I barely have time to eat and sleep, let alone text or call anyone. It's absolutely exhausting. I feel starved of everything by the time it's over, sleep, food, touch, and every other basic need.</p><p>I break down after my last exam. I get in my car, tilt the seat all the way back, then curl up and cry. It's needed. It's a release. </p><p>The second it's done, I call Clay, who answers. </p><p>"Hey." He says. Hearing his voice is relief. </p><p>"I'm finally done." I whine out, and hear him return with an affirmative noise.</p><p>"You did it! I'm proud of you!" He say, and I break.</p><p>I start sobbing, audibly, breaths wet and labored. </p><p>"Woah— feelin' that rough?" He asks, returning with a softer energy.</p><p>"I'm just so fucking tir'ed." I hiccup around my tears.</p><p>He chuckles. "Well go home. Get a nap in. I'll be there in a couple hours." </p><p>"Okay." I mumble, too exhausted to express any excitement. "See you soon. Bye."</p><p>"Love you, bye!" He says, then hangs up before I can say it back.</p><p>I find myself managing a smile, and it's all his fault. I kick myself back into gear, mustering the energy to adjust my seat back to where it needs to be so I can drive home. </p><p>I do just that.</p><p>It's a straight line once I cross the threshold into my apartment. I get to my room, toss my phone, kick off my shoes, and collapse into bed. I wrap myself in a blanket, fingers wadding up fabric so I can bury my face. I'm too tired to cry again, so I pass out instead.</p><p>***</p><p>I barely wake up to Clay forcing himself under the blanket with me. I manage a single bleary blink before I'm whining and grabbing for him. He laughs, just barely. </p><p>"Go back to sleep whiney baby." He says, soft. </p><p>I keep pushing forward with my hands, stuffing them up Clay's shirt, seeking skin to skin. He lets me, wrapping me in his hold and dragging me into his chest, holding tight. I keep snuffling, pressing my face into his chest and dragging in deep breaths. He smells like detergent, clean, fresh. Wrapped up in his arms like this, it's easy to sleep again. </p><p>***</p><p>It's dark out when I wake up a second time to my stomach screaming at me to eat. I blink, head feeling fuzzy with sleep, eyes darting around. I land on Clay's face and briefly pause.</p><p>He looks so... relaxed, soft. </p><p>I wriggle a hand out of his shirt, slowly, carefully, then lift it to his face. I press the pad of my thumb to his jaw, then follow it. It's hard to... fully process how much this is starting to mean to me. Even when we're just laying around, texting, cracking jokes, he's the one thing that always makes smile.</p><p>I lean in, pressing a small kiss to his chin and he immediately stirs, eyes moving beneath their lids, face shifting back into something harder. I can't help that I laugh. </p><p>"You're a light sleeper, you know." I tease, voice still quiet.</p><p>Clay's eyes just barely crack, pupils slightly narrowing as he takes in his surroundings, then dilating again as they land on me. I don't miss the shift in his face, the way his expression melts, close to the way he looks sleeping, though not quite. </p><p>"Am I?" He says back, voice rough with sleep. It sends a shiver up my spine, my lips parting as an exhale slips. </p><p>He notices, smile growing, one of his hands lifting to cup my face. I turn into it, rubbing my cheek to his palm, our eyes locked. I dart my tongue out to wet my lip, and it catches his gaze. His eyes drop, watching the movement, then he's leaning in.</p><p>The second our lips meet I sigh, pleased, dragging my hand around to the back of his neck and squeezing.</p><p>"G'morning." He sighs against my mouth, and I quirk into a smile, pulling from the kiss. </p><p>"Morning?" I question, teasing. </p><p>Clay rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean." He says. </p><p>I tilt my head, but before I can tease further, he speaks again. "You pack yet, baby?" </p><p>I pause, thinking. For... what? Are we going to his house? </p><p>"Pack?" I question. </p><p>Clay hums, melting into a grin. "Uh-huh? So you forgot." He says. </p><p>I pause again, sleepy brain slowly processing. </p><p>Pack... pack... pack— oh fuck.</p><p>"New York—" I breathe out, surprised for just a moment as I remember.</p><p>Clay starts to laugh, patting my face. I blink at him. "I didn't forget! I mean I forgot but, I didn't forget. I just— I wasn't thinking about it. I was distracted. Finals." I say. It's not an excuse. It's the truth. Totally.</p><p>Clay mhm's, staring me down. </p><p>"Shut up." I mumble back, starting to pout.</p><p>He pats my cheek again. "There, there. You better pack. We leave tomorrow, early." He pauses, thinking, "Pick a comfortable outfit, too. Lots of travel, and I've— I've got some plans."</p><p>"How long is it supposed to take?" I ask.</p><p>Clay hums, thinking. "Two hour drive to Orlando, maybe fifteen to pick up Patches and get to the airport, forty-five to board, two hour flight... I'll give a generous thirty to get our luggage, then another two, two and half odd hours to the cabin. Might take a little longer with uh— with what I have in mind." </p><p>I pause, processing. "Eight— hold on, cabin?" I question. "Clarify. I thought we were gonna stomp around in a city?"</p><p>He shakes his head. "No. It's a surprise, but no, not the city." </p><p>I lift my brows, briefly staring him down. "Fine... Can you tell me what the plans are? Or is that top secret too?" I ask with a huff.</p><p>Clay smiles. "Actually, I'll do you one better. I can show you." He says, then lifts, quickly slipping out of bed.</p><p>I sit up, surprised, following him with my eyes. He's crouched at the foot of the bed, digging through his bag. He pops back up with a box, then springs back into bed next to me. I see the box and my breath hitches.</p><p>This kinky mother fucker—</p><p>"I thought since it's such a long trip... what..." He pauses, taking a second to calculate. "Eight right? Eight hours? This could provide a little entertainment, for the both of us." </p><p>I mhm, staring at the remote controlled discrete vibrator he's holding in his hands. Suddenly... is it warm in here?</p><p>He looks at me, grinning. "So, is it a yes, daddy? Or a go fuck yourself, Clay?" He asks. </p><p>I roll my tongue in my mouth, leaning forward to snatch the box out of his hands and place it on my desk. If he wants to do all of that to me tomorrow, he's gonna have to give me something tonight. </p><p>I lay back down, next to him. </p><p>"Yes or no, baby?" He asks, soft and genuine this time. </p><p>I grin, rolling over to rest my head on his chest. I land a hand on his stomach and he exhales, surprised. </p><p>"Right now? It's a go fuck yourself, Clay. But..." I move my hand lower, dragging the tips of my fingers along his lap. "...if you're a good boy, I just might change my mind." </p><p>Clay's hips briefly, barely, lift into my touch. His breath is shuddered, unsteady. "Yeah?" He asks, breathy. "What I gotta do for you?" </p><p>I hum, pleased, lifting my fingers to play with his waistband. I also lift my head from his chest, just enough to meet his eyes. We hold, staring at each other for just a moment before I lean in, slotting our mouths together. </p><p>The kiss is heated, forceful, my hand automatically dropping to palm his cock. He tries to push his tongue into my mouth but I fight it, pushing back.</p><p>I pull out of the kiss. "I want control." I mumble, then press right back in. </p><p>Clay hums, but submits, letting his mouth and tongue go much less demanding in their movement. I lick into his mouth, pleased, until sated, then pull back with a heavy breath. </p><p>"Good boy." I sigh out, then nip his lip.</p><p>I don't expect the way he whimpers, hips lifting to press into my hand. 95% dom my ass. </p><p>I pull back, far enough that we can meet eyes. "Go ahead and get up, lock the door, and bring me my box from the closet." I say, quietly a demand. </p><p>Clay pauses to watch me. "Yeah?" He asks. I simply nod in return. </p><p>His brows lift, and we stare each other down. I can see the gears turning in his brain as his eyes flick across my face and down to my body. He's thinking about it. His poor brain doesn't want to admit that I have him wrapped around my little fingers. </p><p>I decide I'll be merciful, motivate him in a way that's a little more comfortable, familiar. </p><p>"Please, daddy?" I ask with a pout. </p><p>I watch the brainrot settle in, his expression melting into a smile at the modicum of power I just allowed him. </p><p>"You know, I'd only do this for you." He mumbles, then he's up, obeying my demands. </p><p>I'm unbelievably smug as I watch him lock the door then move to my closet, briefly pausing to dig and find my sex-box. He carries it back, placing it right into my grabby little hands. </p><p>Still standing at the side of the bed, he drags his shirt up and off, over his head, hovering as he waits. My brain stutters for a moment, pausing in it's focus to stare. I realize I should be in at least an equal state of undress, and do the same, dragging my shirt off. </p><p>I notice where his focus lands, my chest, and decide I want to use that. I lift the chained nipple clamps, which catches his immediate attention. He leans in, hands exploratory, but I catch him at the wrist. </p><p>"No touching." I say curling into a smile. "Wait for your turn right there, big man."</p><p>Clay swallows, eyes still locked to my chest. He watches, helpless, as I brush my fingers across my breast, teasing the nipple until it peaks, then applying the clamp to each. I know decorated like this, they're sure to draw his attention. Too bad he doesn't have permission to do a goddamn thing about it.</p><p>"Baby, c'mon." He mumbles, breathless, still staring.</p><p>I flop back on the mattress, lifting my hips, hooking my thumbs into my leggings and underwear, rucking them down and off. Now, I'm totally nude. I spread my legs, dropping a single hand between them to play with myself, small breathy noises in my throat.</p><p>I see Clay's eyes drop again, watching that, and witness the way his hands tense, jaw ticking. </p><p>"C'mere." I say, lifting my free hand to beckon him with a curled finger. </p><p>He immediately listens, climbing onto the mattress to kneel between my legs. He reaches for me, then falters, glancing up for permission. I shake my head no, and his hands drop back to his sides.</p><p>He's a good listener. </p><p>Using my hand, I spread myself open, dragging my fingers against my clit, slowly, surely. I look up at Clay, at the desperation and want burning on his face, and finally give in.</p><p>"You wanna touch me?" I ask, teasing.</p><p>He nods, and my hand retracts. "Go ahead. Make me feel good." I say, soft, and it's all it takes.</p><p>"Yes, ma'am." He says back. Then suddenly, his body is dipping, his head going straight between my legs. </p><p>He uses a single hand to hold me spread, then pushes forward with his tongue, slowly dragging it through my pussy like a warm up. I immediately relax, feeling some of the rigidity leave my body.</p><p>God, this is gonna feel so good, it'll be hard to maintain any semblance of power and control in this situation. Still, it's worth a try. </p><p>I lift a leg, hooking it over his shoulder, then drop a hand to card through his hair. His mouth movements are slow, soft, indirect. It's sensual, careful. I pet his hair, sighing a moan. </p><p>"S'good, babe." I breathe out, gently scraping with my nails down his neck. </p><p>It makes Clay press in further, a quiet moan escaping his throat as he adjusts his position between my legs. He curls both arms under my thighs, landing his hands on my waist and gripping there. I have only a second before he adjusts again, wrapping his arms around my waist tight, lifting his head to my stomach, then, he flips us.</p><p>I yelp, somewhat surprised by the sudden movement, before I laugh, now sitting on his chest as he lays flat on his back. </p><p>Clay smiles up at me, rocking to settle. His thumbs brush against my waist as I adjust my legs as well.</p><p>"Come take your seat." He says, then winks.</p><p>I huff a laugh, lifting to my knees, shifting up until I'm just hovering above his face. "This the new DX Racer?" I question, moving one hand down to grip his hair, the other spreading my pussy.</p><p>He smiles, opening his mouth to say some dumb shit, and I take it as my opportunity. I sit right down. </p><p>My eyes flutter as Clay immediately starts to move his tongue. I buck into it, hips rocking against his face as his tongue drags through my pussy, curling against my clit. </p><p>It's not as soft, the proximity making the contact hard, rough. I moan, pulling his hair. His hands tighten around my waist, tips of his fingers digging into the soft flesh. I tilt my head back, relaxing into the sensation of his tongue dragging along everything sensitive. </p><p>I feel one of his hands drop off my body, tailed by a quiet moan from him.</p><p>Oh? What's this? </p><p>I look over my shoulder, watching as Clay lifts his hips, palming his cock over his sweats. Interesting. Despite the measured flick of his tongue making my thighs tense, I find my resolve, and lift off his face, staring down as I hover above him. His lips stay parted, eyes locked between my legs as his brain lags, catching up. Finally, he looks up. </p><p>"What?" He asks, tailed by an exhaled moan. </p><p>I crack into a grin, brushing a hand over his face. "I don't remember giving you permission to touch yourself." </p><p>His brows lift. "Permission?" He questions.</p><p>"Hands off your cock or I'm not touching it tonight." I say, tilting my head and looking down at him through my lashes.</p><p>His jaw ticks despite his smile. Still, I feel his hand land back on my waist, squeezing. I drag my hand to follow his jaw, hooking it back into his hair and pulling, hard. </p><p>"Good boy." I mumble, dropping my other hand back between my legs.</p><p>Staring down at him, I slide my fingers through my pussy, just getting them wet. I watch him watch, his tongue dragging along his lower lip. </p><p>Cute, he wants me to sit back down. </p><p>Instead, I rock into my hand, just pleasuring myself, hovering above him. He tilts his chin back, eyes finding my face again. </p><p>"C'mon." He says, trying to pull me back down by my hips.</p><p>I decide to let him, forfeiting control for now, and land back on his mouth. I sigh, pleased, the second we make contact. He's petulant, demanding between my legs, tongue quick and rough with it's movement. </p><p>I guess he really wants me to cum on his face. I can oblige that.</p><p>I relax, keeping one hand in his hair, the other landing on my headboard  so I can support myself. The feeling of his tongue curling against and into me is intense. I can't help the high, breathy moans that slip, and the way my thighs and stomach involuntarily clench. </p><p>I buck my hips again, letting out a shuddered moan as my eyes slip shut. My hips twitch in a rhythm, body tensing as I ride his tongue in a stuttered pace.</p><p>"God, Clay that's so fucking good—" I sigh out, stomach pulling tight as he points his tongue, using it to circle my clit. </p><p>I squeeze his face with my thighs, feeling pressure build low in my abdomen. I'm almost embarrassed, knowing I'm dripping fucking wet on his mouth</p><p>Almost.</p><p>"C'mon daddy—" I sigh out as I ride his face, hips jerking, stuttering in their movement. "—so fucking close." </p><p>Clay moans into my pussy, and I feel the reverberation. It feels good, honestly. I tighten my hand in his hair, pulling hard, just to get him to moan again. He responds in kind, massive hands almost bruising in their grip on my hips. </p><p>I moan, high and whiny, then arch, a small tremble branching from my abdomen to my thighs. I lose my presence, just holding myself in place as my body goes tight. Clay notices, humming, giving me exactly what I need with his mouth. </p><p>My eyes roll back in my head as the ache blooms, pressure overwhelming for just a second before my abdomen flexes and I shiver into my climax with a breathy shout. </p><p>Suddenly my hips catch up again, bucking against Clay's face as my grip in his hair goes hard. He only gets more demanding with his tongue, chasing the oversensitivity, just because he likes to hear me get loud.</p><p>"Babe— babe— I—" I whine out through panted breaths, body pulling tight, trying to jerk away from his mouth.</p><p>He holds me in place on his face, low noises in his throat as he swipes his tongue against me, drinking in every noise and throb I express. </p><p>I have to force. I grip Clay's hair, holding, then lean back, getting my pussy off his face. I look down, past the rapid rise and fall of my stomach, and see his expression. He looks happy, half-lidded eyes slowly blinking as he stares back at me. I must have a fucked out of my mind expression, because his lips quirk into something smug as he stares at me. </p><p>I tense my thighs for that, squeezing his face between them. </p><p>"You sure look proud." I mumble, breathy, followed by a soft moan as I grip on air. </p><p>"I am proud." He says, then grips my waist again. </p><p>I roll my eyes, flopping to Clay's side, taking some time to adjust. He turns to face me, and I scoot in, swinging a leg over his hip. His hand immediately drops between my legs, blunt fingers pressing in to play with my pussy, easily sliding against against my clit, before dipping to push inside. My breath hitches, head tilting back as I feel him fuck around between my legs. I can tell there's no intent, he's just feeling how turned on I am.</p><p>"You really liked that, huh baby?" He questions, leaning forward to press a kiss to my neck. </p><p>As his skin meets mine I feel how wet his face is and heat with embarrassment. At least I didn't squirt. I would've never lived that one down. My eyes flutter as he curls his fingers inside of me, making me grip down on them.</p><p>"Yeah?" He mumbles against my skin, then nips before he pulls back, meeting my eyes. </p><p>I watch his gaze drop between us as his tilts his hips forward, pressing his hard cock to my thigh like a demand. I melt into a smile, dipping my hand between us. He hums, pleased, before I even make contact. </p><p>Oh? He thinks? </p><p>I land my hand on his stomach, dragging my fingers up, over his ribs, to his shoulder, then grip down with my nails. </p><p>Clay shudders through a moan. "Ha— c'mon baby." He starts, already whiny. Perfect.</p><p>I bite my lip, stifling a laugh. "What is it?" </p><p>He stares me down, then huffs, pulling his fingers out of me to catch me at the wrist. He tugs, guiding me down, landing my palm on his lap. He quickly covers my hand with his own, and presses it against his cock, exhaling from the contact. </p><p>I let him, but don't give him anything, hand going limp the second he isn't forcing it to move.</p><p>"Is there something you want?" I ask, watching the growing frustration settle on his face.</p><p>Clay blinks, brows lifting, glaring me down. I don't falter, blinking up innocently. He shrugs.</p><p>"Fine." He says, then lifts his second hand to grip my jaw. "I'll do it myself looking at that pretty little face." He says.</p><p>I grin, eyes flicking down to watch as he pushes down his waistband, freeing his cock, wrapping a hand around it. He squeezes at the base, slowly dragging his hand up, paying special attention to stimulate the head. </p><p>I flick my eyes back up, seeing Clay looks relaxed, staring at my face, small breathy noises coming from his throat as he jerks himself off. It's a solid play, but I've got one better. </p><p>"Don't you want to fuck with me tomorrow, daddy? Don't you want me in the seat next to you, whispering your name, trying to hold back my moans as I cum constantly, writhing, begging you to fuck me?" I start, watching the immediate want flood his expression. </p><p>I look down in time to watch his hand falter in it's movement, pausing as he drags his thumb along the head of his cock.</p><p>I let my voice get breathier. "Won't it be fun? Hearing me whimper, knowing my pussy is throbbing, sensitive, just waiting for you to fuck me? For hours? All that power..." I mumble, watching the gears turn. </p><p>I lean in, until we're sharing breath, hearing his hitch. "Hand off your cock." I demand, and he listens, retracting his hand and settling it on my hip.</p><p>I curl into a smug smile, pushing forward until I can latch onto his neck and bite down, sucking an embarrassingly obvious bruise. My hand moves with intent, replacing his and tightening around his cock, jacking him off. </p><p>Clay lets out a shuddered moan, hips rocking to fuck himself into my hand. "C'mon. Tell me what you want, baby." He sighs out. </p><p>I keep kissing his neck, slowly stroking his cock, waiting for his noises to get higher, needier. He curls an arm around my upper back, hand tangling in my hair and holding as I fuck with him. I go softer with my kiss, brushing my lips against his skin, feeling as he shivers from the stimulation. </p><p>I lean in until my lips brush his ear. "I want handcuffs." I say, quiet and soft, reveling in the way he melts in my hold. </p><p>Clay nods, then rolls onto his back. I retract everything back into my own space, watching as he leans over to my desk. He fumbles in the box for a moment, then his hands reappear, producing a pair of cuffs. </p><p>The second he grabs them I'm up, swinging a leg over his stomach to straddle him. I lift the cuffs from his grip, curling into a smile.</p><p>"Hands above your head." I request, and he listens, lifting. </p><p>I use the frame of my headboard, delicately curling my fingers around his wrists to guide them into position. Once I'm confident, I thread the cuffs around a bar and cuff each of his wrists. I sit back, proud, landing my hands on his ribs, watching him look up and test them with a tug.</p><p>"All good?" I question, rocking down on his abdomen.</p><p>His eyes flick back to me, face going red. He's always so cute when he pretends he's not my bitch. </p><p>"Seems good." He mumbles back. "Gotta let me try them on you, too. Only fair." </p><p>I tut. "You get to fuck with me for hours tomorrow." I say, then roll my eyes as he tilts his head back, defiant. </p><p>I lean in before Clay can speak, landing my mouth back on his throat to tease, since he's been kind enough to expose it to me. He moans, high and breathy, as I roll the skin in my teeth. </p><p>"Big man..." I sigh out, trailing my kisses up his neck, dragging them to his jaw and mouthing there. "You're not just a dom." I say, breathy, shifting to lay back down at his side.</p><p>I reach down, wrapping my hand around his cock. His eyes immediately flutter, hips twitching to fuck my grip. I watch his expression, seeing him tilt his head further back, swallowing roughly. </p><p>"Yeah?" He asks, arms briefly flexing as I swipe my thumb against the slit of his cock's head. </p><p>"Yeah." I mumble back, lowering my lashes. "I'm gonna make you admit how much you like it, how much you like begging me to cum."</p><p>"Yeah?" He asks again, breathier, splotchy red blooming up his neck to his face. "You can try."</p><p>I melt into a smile, seeing his genuine expression. I have to bite my lip, slowing my hand. Fun. This is going to be fun. At this point? I relax, settling my head on his chest. If he wants to play games, hold his tongue, I'll play right back. He's going to admit it, while he begs, or I won't let him finish.</p><p>I let my touch go incredibly delicate, loosely dragging my fingers along the length of his cock, just teasing. I keep it like that, light, almost too light. It's not enough to make him cum, but it is enough to make him twitch.</p><p>Clay huffs, lifting to rock into my touch. I go even slower. </p><p>"Baby c'mon— this is—" He starts. I interrupt with a squeeze. "—fuck." He exhales, legs twitching as I give him better pressure.</p><p>Still, I keep things slow, dragging my hand up his cock, pressing with my thumb. I turn my face in, pressing my mouth to his ribs. I tilt my head, watching his abdomen tense. </p><p>I smile into his skin, deciding I need to work him better, I can't edge him if he never gets close. I pull my hand off, spitting into my palm, then wrap it right back around his cock.</p><p>I jerk with intent this time, fast, even pressure, sure to react every time he throbs in my hand. I like listening to the cacophony of noises he releases. The words 'baby' 'please' and 'fuck' becoming his mantra. I press a kiss to his ribs, watching his cock get harder, needer, flushed a deep red. </p><p>"Fuck baby, c'mon, keep— keep going—" Clay sighs out. </p><p>I do, for a moment, until the first bead of precum drools from the tip of his cock, then I drop to the base of shaft and completely stop.</p><p>There's quiet for a moment, then: "I see." From Clay, mumbled, low. </p><p>I laugh, tilting my head up to see his expression. It's set, jaw ticking. There's something desperate in his eyes though, giving him away. I'll get it out of him. I lift, planting my mouth on his neck, and start to move my hand again. </p><p>Clay moans, deep, hips arching into my hand. I feel his cock pulse in my palm, throbbing like a threat. He's still close, and I'm going to keep it that way. I nip at his skin, hand fast, jerking his cock in rhythm with his panted breaths. I feel as he tenses, holding his noises, knees briefly lifting, and stop again.</p><p>This time, he whimpers. </p><p>I stop myself from laughing at him by dragging my tongue along his throat and finding a new patch of skin to work. I take just a moment, then start to move my hand again. Clay's moans have gotten whiner, despite the way he's fighting to lower his voice.</p><p>"Admit you're my bitch." I whisper into his skin, focusing the head of his cock to distract him. "Say you're my good boy, and I'll let you finish." I say, smiling, fucking with him for fun.</p><p>I feel Clay swallow, but not one word comes out of his mouth. I lift my head to stare him down. He glares right back, looking livid. I tilt my head, then start to jack him off again. His expression instantly softens, mouth dropping open to exhale a moan.</p><p>I can't help that I lean in to catch it, slotting our mouths together, forcing my tongue into his. He tries to kiss back, just as harsh, but my movement on his cock has him distracted, moaning into my mouth, freezing up as I get him close.</p><p>I stop my hand as his cock throbs again, and he whines into the kiss. </p><p>"Please, baby." He whispers against my mouth.</p><p>I nip his lip, then pull back, grinning, seeing the vulnerable expression on his face. Close, but not quite.</p><p>"What?" I start, tilting my head. "I know you can get louder than that, big man." </p><p>Clay glares for a second. I counter by squeezing his cock. He immediately keens, eyes shutting tight, entire body tilting into the sensation, arms pulling at the restraints. </p><p>I laugh. "Looks like someone really wants to cum." I say, then lean in to get my mouth back on his neck. </p><p>I keep doing it, stroking his cock, getting him close, then stopping the moment before he can cum. Lucky for me, Clay just won't admit how much his likes it. </p><p>The next time I pause his entire body shakes.</p><p>The time after that he buries in my neck, a whimpering begging mess. </p><p>The next time, he actually shouts, body curling tight with the effort.</p><p>His cock is beyond hard, desperate, flushed with enough blood it almost looks bruised. I bet it would feel fucking amazing inside of me. </p><p>The next time I pause, he doesn't, rocking his hips to fuck my hand. I fully retract for that. He nearly cries out, entire body twisting to follow.</p><p>"Please, baby please— please— please— let me." He begs out. </p><p>It makes my pussy grip on nothing. Still, he's not saying what I want. Time to up the ante. I shift up, holding his cock, and swing into his lap.</p><p>He immediately exhales in relief, blissfully unaware as I line him up with my entrance. I shudder as I lower myself onto his cock, clenching down as it slides inside. </p><p>"Oh my God— please baby— please— c'mon— c'mon." Clay begs, eyes rolling back into his head. </p><p>I suck in my lower lip, stifling my own moan, but stay completely still. The way he feels inside of me makes it difficult, but I manage. I drop a hand between my legs, staring down at him, and slowly circle my clit.</p><p>He groans, guttural, as he realizes what's up. I watch his arms tense, pulling the restraints, knuckles white from how hard his hands are clenched. A cheaper cuff may have broken. </p><p>I smile. "Be a good boy, and take it." I say, false sweet, then moan, head rolling on my shoulders, fingers stimulating my clit, chasing my own pleasure.</p><p>It's fun to watch the veins in his arms, neck, and abdomen jump, his muscles pulling tight enough it must hurt.</p><p>"Please." He begs out, broken. "Please. I'm your good boy. Please baby, please. I need— I can't— please let me cum—" </p><p>I nearly coo, feeling my stomach flutter as Clay breaks under me. I bounce once, like a reward, and he shouts, arms jerking with a rattle. </p><p>"You wanna cum so fuckin' bad, don't you?" I ask, continuing to tease, incredibly slowly staring to bounce on his cock. I want to cum too, but I'm easy, I can get one out as fast as I want with any real intent. </p><p>"God— oh my fucking God— please baby—" Clay continues his begging, whimpering between his panted breaths, hips rocking up against me. </p><p>I drag my tongue along my lip, finding a quick rhythm, riding him into the fucking mattress. It might be too much, but the way he moans makes it all worth it. I feel bad for a moment, his pathetic, whiny noises giving away how desperate he is as I bounce.</p><p>I moan with him, keeping my fingers stuttering against my clit. I hesitate, but lean forward with my other hand, wrapping it around his throat, loose. He immediately tilts his bruised neck back to accept, eyes fluttering, threatening to shut as I tighten my grip. It feels amazing, but I know it isn't going to last.</p><p>"I'm so— I'm close— c'mon baby—" Clay begs as hips twitch, lifting both of us, his entire body rocking and arching. </p><p>I keep the pace, chasing with him, feeling my stomach swing for the way he's begging. I get a good angle with my fingers, and arch as well, hips rocking, fingers stuttering. I expect to cum first, the way I always do, but suddenly Clay's letting out a guttural moan.</p><p>I moan, high, feeling his cock jerk inside of me as he cums. I keep my rapid pace, chasing my own orgasm. He takes it for just a moment, whining, shaking, before it's too much.</p><p>"P-please— please— oh my God— please baby— I can't, I can't, I can't—" He whimpers out, struggling against the restraints, legs lifting.</p><p>It's hot. I keep going, thighs trembling with the effort. </p><p>"Just a little more daddy. I'm close." I sigh out, clenching down on his cock. </p><p>I can feel him inside of me, cock throbbing, over-sensitive, over-whelmed. The way he does to me, all the fucking time. I squeeze his throat, cutting off another whine, watching his face twist and teeth clench as I keep going. </p><p>I wish I could go longer, reveling in how sensitive and loud Clay is under me, but... I am pathetic when it comes to endurance. I tense, eyes fluttering back, responding to his noises with high breathy moans of my own.</p><p>My stomach clenches tight enough to hurt, heat blooming out as I crash into my orgasm. I twitch my hips a final few times, Clay thrashing and rocking under me as I clench down, hard. </p><p>"Fucking— Christ— p-please—" He whimpers out as I shudder into my orgasm, fluttering around his still mostly hard cock. </p><p>I fold, wrapping both hands around his head and cradling it to my chest. We rock into each other, full-bodied, both fucking gone, coming down from the high. </p><p>I hold tight, petting Clay's hair, as he shivers in turns, snuffling small whiny noises into my chest.</p><p>"So fucking good." I mumble out, pleased. </p><p>There's a pause, silence filled with panted breaths as we collect ourselves. </p><p>Clay breaks it, flexing his arms. "Can you uncuff me? Please?" He asks, voice rough from begging for the past hour. </p><p>I huff, curling into a smile, barely coming to enough to do that for him. The second I do, his hands are on me, gripping tight enough hurt, holding me in place as he flips me to the mattress. His hips shift, cock slipping out as he finds a new position on my body.</p><p>I laugh, lifting my hands to curl into his hair. He buries himself in my neck, noises low in his throat. I expect to be bit, bruised, claimed, anything. Instead, Clay presses in to just breathe, tickling me with his facial hair as he exhales against my skin. </p><p>I pet the back of his head, feeling that he's still trembling, and briefly feel guilt.</p><p>"You okay?" I ask, soft.</p><p>He nods, whining, pressing in closer. I drop my hands to cup his face, rubbing him in soothing strokes. He melts against me, and I let him. We press together, as close as we possibly can, wrapped up, blissed out. </p><p>Finally, Clay speaks. "I think you're right." He mumbles into my neck.</p><p>I hum, startled, realizing I was drifting off and start to card my hands through his hair again. "'bout what?" I ask around a yawn.</p><p>"I—I, uh, I like when you make me beg." He admits.</p><p>I melt into a smile, squeezing him tight. </p><p>"I know big man. You're my bitch boy." I say, teasing. </p><p>He grumbles, lifting his head. Despite his frown, I see the light in his eyes, mischievous, playful. </p><p>"Keep calling me that. You're the one that'll be begging me tomorrow." He says, lifting a hand to my face. </p><p>Clay presses a thumb to to my lips, demanding. I let him push into my mouth with the digit. He immediately follows it in, pressing his lips to mine with a claiming kiss. </p><p>I sigh into it, happy, stomach fluttering as I think about tomorrow. I don't really mind which one of us is begging, I like it all the same, just so long as we both feel good.</p><p>"Love you." I sigh out into the kiss, genuinely happy.</p><p>I feel his lips twitch against mine. "I love you too." He says back, breathy, chased by a hard kiss, hard enough my head tilts back into my pillows. I'm surprised how quickly Clay breaks it. I whine, lifting, wanting more, but he stays back.</p><p>"You never packed your bag, baby." He chastises. "And..." He leans in to whisper. "I think you're dripping cum."</p><p>I fake pout. "I'm tired and hungry. How am I supposed to do anything."</p><p>He stares me down for a second, double checking that I'm serious before he huffs. "Really?" He starts, triple checking, and I double-down, nodding. </p><p>He stares for a second longer, before he groans. "What do you want to eat?" He asks, defeated, and I perk up. </p><p>"Almonds, fruit snacks, and a capri-sun." I chirp, then crack into a grin. "Fetch, doggy." </p><p>Clay was already on his way up, but freezes as I say the last part. He turns to look at me with lifted brows, blinking. I bite my lip, staring right back.</p><p>We hold, then suddenly he barks, and swings up to standing. He's out the door before I can react. Though, the second I process it I devolve into laughter. I'm still laughing as he returns.</p><p>He approaches quick, dragging a wet washcloth against my skin to clean the cum and dropping the requested snacks to the mattress. I sit up to eat, watching his back as he shuffles away toward my closet and drags my bag out. </p><p>"You gonna pack for me?" I ask teasing.</p><p>Clay shrugs. "Someone's gotta do it." </p><p>I grin, deciding I'll let him. I watch, laughing as he goes through my drawers, eventually landing on the lingerie one. He lifts a single item, brows climbing into space as he eyes it, then suddenly he's stuffing it into the bag.</p><p>Oops. This may have been a mistake to let him pack for me.</p><p>Still, I trust that he can find enough self control to properly pack. I finish my food, and flop back over, watching.</p><p>"You're my big strong man." I coo out, watching the way he tenses and turns to glare as I say it. </p><p>I tease the entire time he packs, until he's flopping back on top of me and meeting my lips. We kiss, soft and slow, happy and relaxed as we hold each other tight. This is likely to be an important trip. Thank God we're going to be starting it off right with some good old fashioned overstimulation play.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. yoooo! cum town (smut, fluff)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cw: cumswapping</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clay looks so fucking proud of himself. </p><p>I whine, dropping my head to his shoulder, breathing against his neck. His little idea was fun at first. But, there's only so much a person can take. I dart forward to grip his arm, tight, whimpering as I shudder closer to another orgasm, rocking in my seat next to him. </p><p>I hide my face in his neck, panted breaths and moans small and delicate, trying to muffle my noises. Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I've lost count at this point, everything between my legs starting to feel numb from how overspent I am. </p><p>"You're okay, baby." Clay soothes.</p><p>I bite my tongue, holding a whimper, pressing into his neck. I want to beg, but I refuse to give him that.</p><p>He turns until his mouth is pressed to my ear. "C'mon. Get a little louder for me." He teases, pressing something that makes the vibration increase before turning right back to the road.</p><p>Damn. I tried.</p><p>"Clay please—" I breathe out, beyond gone. It's been almost a hour and a half of this, or at least since we started the drive. It's too goddamn early for this.</p><p>He turns his head back in towards me, lips grazing against my skin, sending a shiver through my body, taking in a breath. "Be a good girl for me. You can do it." He says, soft.</p><p>My entire body pulls tight, arching. "I can't. Please. C-can I please just— please." </p><p>Clay laughs, placing his hand on my thigh to squeeze. I immediately dart both of my hands to cover it, gripping down tight, digging my fingers in as I continue to rock in my seat. I manage to flutter my eyes open, staring at him with my face pulled tight, wordlessly begging. I watch something in his expression soften.</p><p>"How about this..." He starts, quickly checking his phone. "We've got a little extra time. If I turn it off for you now, you're gonna let me take care of you as soon as we get to my house, yeah?" He asks, low and quiet.</p><p>I whimper, nodding. I'd honestly say yes to anything like this. Suddenly, the vibration stops and I shudder through a desperate exhale, catching my breath. I can still feel the small bit of plastic pressing against me, but I'm numb enough that it feels like not much. I go limp, pressing as far into Clay's neck as I can get. </p><p>"Thank you." I mumble, and he briefly laughs. </p><p>"You can thank me in 20 minutes, baby." He says back. I nod into his neck, still collecting myself. </p><p>I'm not very... present for the rest of the drive. I'm hardly anything but gone as he pulls into his driveway and parks. Still, I manage to open my door and stumble to my feet. </p><p>I plaster myself to Clay's back, fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt as he leads us inside, quickly unlocking his door. The second we're in, he turns, pressing a kiss to my forehead. </p><p>"Go get ready. I'll be up in a sec." He says. </p><p>Despite the warning, I whine as he walks away from me, briefly swaying where I stand, feeling ungrounded. I manage to collect myself enough to move upstairs. I slip into his room and just... fold, collapsing into his bed and stretching out. </p><p>After three weeks apart... I know the next five days are going to be messy, just like yesterday was. I drag my shirt up and off, tossing it somewhere in his bed. I huff, still feeling lax from being overstimulated all morning, then lazily manage to get my bra off. Next, I paw at my sweats, wriggling against the mattress to get them off with my panties.</p><p>It's not a pretty sight, but no one's here to see it.</p><p>The second I'm nude, I dip between my legs, pulling out the toy that's been fucking with me all morning. I briefly glare at the pink piece of plastic, before rolling onto my stomach and leaning over to plant it on a nightstand. I stay rolled over, burying my face in a pillow. </p><p>I'm definitely going to sleep the whole flight. It's early as fuck anyways. </p><p>I hear movement and tilt my head to look, eyes landing on the doorway, blinking as I watch Clay step in. His eyes briefly meet mine, then drop right to my ass. </p><p>I curl into a smile. Okay. </p><p>I tilt my hips, rolling them in a rhythm, like a show. He laughs, approaching. He pulls his shirt off, then pushes his hair back with his hand. He gets close enough to slap my ass, for fun, no real intent. </p><p>"Flip. This needs to be quick." He demands. </p><p>Say less. </p><p>I turn until I'm laying on my back again, head tilted, staring up at Clay through my lashes. He just stares back, frozen for a moment, hovering. </p><p>"Damn." He says, eyes quickly traveling along my body. </p><p>I nearly curl in on myself, embarrassed, but his hand lands on my thigh. He drags his fingers along my skin, up to my hip, to my stomach, then back down. </p><p>"What?" I ask, still nervous.</p><p>Clay smiles, eyes flicking up to meet mine. He makes his way into bed, settling between my legs. He leans in, grinding against me, landing his lips on my neck. </p><p>"Nothing just..." He exhales, toying with my skin. "Thinking about how ready I am to fold you in half." He mumbles.</p><p>My breath hitches, eyes rolling back as he works my neck. I lift both hands to his back, digging in with my nails and holding tight. It's been a minute since we just... fucked. Missionary. I moan, quiet, as he presses himself between my legs. </p><p>"You feel so good—" I sigh out, letting my eyes fall shut, relaxing into his movement. </p><p>Clay hums, pressing another kiss before he's sitting up. "Boutta feel better." He mumbles, moving to press his hand to back of my thigh at the bend of my knee. </p><p>He presses, folding the limb up, until he can hook it over his shoulder. With me now spread, his fingers dip, demanding between my legs. I don't need much in the way of preparation, already wet and soft from spending all morning cumming. Still, he presses two fingers into me, curling them up and dragging them in and out. </p><p>"I can't wait to make you feel good, fill you up, make you—" He interrupts himself with a shuddered sigh, focusing on his finger movements.</p><p>It's enough that I clench, letting out a desperate moan. </p><p>"—make you cum on my cock." He finishes.</p><p>I loosely nod. That's likely to happen more than once, even if this is just a quickie. </p><p>"Hold on for me baby." Clay says, soft, pulling his fingers out of me. </p><p>I hear the rustling of fabric, and manage to crack my eyes open again. I watch, clenching on air, as he frees his cock, giving it a few cursory strokes. God, he's got the perfect dick. </p><p>Lord forgive me for the whore this man makes me.</p><p>I tilt my hips, lifting them, spreading further. Clay laughs, smile slowly melting his face.</p><p>"Patience." He chastises, then cups my other leg at the knee. He lifts it as well, getting it thrown over his shoulder. </p><p>I cross my ankles against his back, retracting my hands into my own space. I use one to cup a breast, the other lands near my face. Clay takes advantage, lifting one of his hands as well, covering mine with it, threading our fingers together and holding tight. </p><p>"Ready? I know it's not much prep but—"</p><p>"Yeah." I interrupt, nodding. </p><p>Clay nods back, squeezing my hand once, then grips the base of his cock, lining up. My stomach goes tight, despite the way I fight to stay relaxed, feeling the stretch of him pushing inside of me. I roll my head to the side, fluttering my eyes, watching his expression go lax as his eyes stay locked between my legs. He watches himself push in, bottom out, then rolls his hips to grind against me. </p><p>I moan, eyes faltering in their ability to keep open. </p><p>Clay looks up, expression soft and blissed. "Yeah? Feel good?" He questions, rocking against me. </p><p>I nod, and he squeezes my hand tight. Suddenly he's tilting all the way forward, completely folding me in the process, leaning in until our mouths can meet. The second his lips are on mine, he snaps his hips, dragging his cock in and out of me with a rough thrust. </p><p>I moan, mouth falling open, and he catches it, locking our mouths together. It muffles the noises I'm making as our lips press, moving against eachother. He quickly finds a rhythm. It's slower than I expect, but still enough that I'm arching my body against his, panting out shuddered breaths. </p><p>"How's that, baby?" Clay breathes out, dropping his head to my neck and latching on with his mouth. </p><p>I moan again, lifting my free hand to his neck, then threading it into his hair, pulling tight. "S'good." I sigh, quiet, eyes rolling back in my head. </p><p>For something that's supposed to be a quickie he sure is—</p><p>Oh—</p><p>Suddenly, Clay's hips snap, rough enough there's an audible slap as our skin connects. The pace shifts to something hard, fast. He pulls out of my neck, squeezing my hand tight, lifting to watch me. </p><p>I'm sure my face is interesting. My head is tilted, mouth open, eyes rolling back. My noises have gotten higher, more desperate. It's amazing to feel the way his cock drags in and out, pushing the stretch, pressing into everything sensitive and soft inside of me.</p><p>I clench, and he shudders out a moan himself. </p><p>"God, there it is. Keep it— fuck—" Clay starts, his own eyes fluttering. </p><p>I mewl out a moan, nodding, clenching around the length of his cock again. I try to keep as tight as I can, fluttering with him inside. We really only have a few minutes for this.</p><p>"Hold— hold on. I'm gonna—" Clay breathes out suddenly shifting between my legs.</p><p>He presses in, hard enough that my back arches. Suddenly he's snapping his hips at a punishing pace, the sounds of our skin connecting filling the room.</p><p>It's a good— it's— it's good. Feels good. I should tell him. </p><p>"I—" Is all I get out, cut with a wild moan as he slams his cock as deep as he can. </p><p>"Baby I—" Clay breathes out, before leaning in to press our lips together. "I want you to cum. It always— it feels so fucking good— when you—" He speaks between panted breaths and desperate kisses.</p><p>I nod. It's permission to be quick.</p><p>"Touch— God— I want—" He keeps moaning out unfinished thoughts.</p><p>I think I get the jist. I scrape my nails down Clay's neck one more time, then drop my hand between my legs, circling my own clit while he fucks me.</p><p>"Yeah." He breathes, leaning back just enough to watch it happen.</p><p>I moan, drawn-out and whiny, speeding the stutter of my fingers against my clit, feeling warmth bloom low in my stomach. Suddenly, some of the numbness is fading, sensitivity overtaking as I push toward an early orgasm. </p><p>"Yeah— yeah I can cum if— if you cum for me— it'll— it feels so good— I can— I can cum too." He stutters out, and my lips twitch to smile. </p><p>It must feel good if he's acting like that. I get the angle just right, barreling myself toward an orgasm while I get fucked into the mattress. I can feel I'm close and get out a "Please— oh my God—" Before I arch, shivering into my climax.</p><p>My legs pull painfully tight, hand darting up to dig into Clay's chest. He moans, guttural, hips snapping hard enough we drag up the mattress until my head thumps against his headboard with each thrust. I can't help the small laugh that bubbles in my throat between moans, hips jerking in over sensitivity. </p><p>Clay's focused, hips rolling in absolute desperate movements as he chases an equally early finish. I tighten down, clenching with everything I've got, and his hips stutter.</p><p>"Shit—" Clay whines out, dropping his head back into my neck and biting down. </p><p>His hand squeezes mine again, almost painfully tight. I whimper, circling my hand from his chest to the back of his head, pulling his hair again. </p><p>"C'mon, baby—" I start, surprised at the way baby slips from my mouth. Clay moans in response, so I guess it must be alright. </p><p>I press my face to his, making sure my lips land on his ear. I briefly nip the lobe, then drop back into moaning. He loses rhythm immediately, open mouth pressed to my neck. </p><p>"God— fuck—" He chokes out, and I feel his cock throb inside of me. </p><p>I swallow, steadying myself, and tighten up again, milking his cock. It makes him moan, stuttered, hips slowing into the final few thrusts before he arches. There's a shout, then a flooding of warmth low in my abdomen. </p><p>I blink, slow, rocking my hips as Clay rolls himself a few more times, catching his breath. I hold him tight, petting his hair, feeling the slight tremble in his hands. I can tell we both want to collapse, wrap up, bliss out but... we've gotta go.</p><p>"Clay, c'mon baby, we gotta—" I start, and he interrupts with a groan. </p><p>"I know." He starts, then drags in a heavy breath. "I like that, by the way... the— fuck—" His breath catches as I tighten on his cock, honestly just teasing.</p><p>He briefly chuckles, low and quiet, pressing a kiss to my throat. I feel his hips shift, dragging his cock out of me, and shiver at the loss. Before I can react his head dips, down my collarbones, ghosting over my chest. He pulls both of his hands into his space, holding my waist tight. I falter with my hands, confused for just a moment, before I catch on. </p><p>"Wh—what are you—" I stutter, quick, somewhat in disbelief.</p><p>Clay tilts his head up just enough to look at me with puppy eyes, a proud expression curling his face. "I'm gonna clean you up, yeah?" He breathes out, lips dragging down to my stomach.</p><p>Jesus— Jesus Christ—</p><p>"Wouldn't want..." He starts again, pressing a kiss to my hip, cupping his hands under my thighs to lift my legs and spread me back open. "To get a rag dirty right before we're out of town, would we?" He says.</p><p>I nod, thighs going tight, moving with him, parting my legs. I find the wherewithal to dart a hand down, threading it into his hair and pulling tight. </p><p>"Clay— this— this is—" I stutter out, nervous. We got close to something like this before... but...</p><p>He hums smiling one more time before he's pressing forward, tongue first, curling it inside of me, lapping his own cum out of my pussy. I whimper, shivering with each pass of his tongue, beyond embarrassed as I feel him press deeper inside. </p><p>The second he's done, he's up, landing a hand to cup my jaw, forcing his thumb between my lips and holding my mouth open. He leans in, spitting his cum back into my mouth with a smile, chasing it with a rough kiss. </p><p>I whine, swallowing around his tongue as we press flush, tangled together for just a moment. </p><p>Clay pulls back, big smile, staring down at me panting under him. I blink back. "You— that was—" I start, breathy, squeezing him with my legs. </p><p>He laughs, leaning in to press a quick peck to my lips before he's up and off, pulling his own sweats back up and walking out of the room. I lay there, fucked out of my mind for just a moment, then finally come to enough to fumble around in his bed, searching for the clothes I shed. </p><p>I get dressed quick, stumbling back to my feet, and wandering out of Clay's room to find him. I end up finding him in a bathroom, brushing his teeth. We make eye-contact in the mirror, and he smiles, small crinkle forming in the corner of his eye. </p><p>I follow in. "Can I use that?" I ask, poking the toothbrush.</p><p>He shakes his head, wordlessly leaning to the side, tossing me a toothbrush of my own. I melt into a smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his back between his shoulders, and brush my teeth too. </p><p>He finishes first, obviously. </p><p>"We've got like... five minutes." He says, walking away for a moment, then reappearing with his shirt and a hoodie on, pressing flush to my back and wrapping his arms around my waist. </p><p>"I know it's like... 70. But make sure you go pick a hoodie or sweater or something. It's like... 20 up there." He mumbles, fingers picking at the fabric of my t-shirt. </p><p>I nod, finishing, then turn to walk away. Instead, Clay keeps me pinned in place, leaning in to land his mouth on my neck. I laugh, lifting both hands to hold his shoulders. </p><p>"C'mon big man. Let me go. You can't fuck me on the sink too." I tease.</p><p>He hums, pressing in closer. "I'm just thinking about it."</p><p>I slap my hands against his shoulders, trying to wriggle of his grip. "Is it the sweatpants that have you horny or..." I start, teasing, and he presses in further, just mouthing at my skin. </p><p>"Nah. It's the sitting next to you for two hours listening to those little fucking noises that I can't get out of my head knowing I couldn't touch you. Got a little riled up." He says, like an admission.</p><p>I feel my face warm, briefly faltering as he squeezes me tight like a finality, before finally backing off. I stand there, surprised, watching him walk away whistling. </p><p>Acting like he didn't just—</p><p>Man. I'm so horny around him. It can't be healthy. </p><p>I shake the thought, bee-lining for Clay's room to snag a hoodie like he told me to. After, I come downstairs to find him crouched down, eye-level with Patches, open crate at his feet. </p><p>"If you don't get in the crate I'm gonna force you into it. And that would suck, wouldn't it?" He says to her, and I have to stifle a laugh. </p><p>Clay reaches for her and she dodges, running away. She sees the crate, she knows what's up. Thankfully, she tries to zoom between my legs, and I manage to scoop her. She's still displeased, but doesn't struggle too much. </p><p>"I'll protect you from daddy." I whisper. "I'm totally not going to betray you." I continue, voice soft, edging toward the crate. </p><p>Clay looks sad, eyeing us with a pout. "I don't like that she's upset." He says, and I press in until she's sandwiched between us.</p><p>"Give her a kiss. She'll be fine." I say, and he does. </p><p>Patches immediately meows, starting to struggle in my arms. I huff, dropping down with her and Clay, and we delicately handle her into the crate. A team effort. </p><p>We both huff, looking at the crate, then look at eachother. </p><p>"Welp..." He starts, brows lifting. "S'bout that time." He says.</p><p>My face scrunches up. "You sound so fucking old. You sound like every white dad." I tease.</p><p>He nods. "That's me, for sure, I'm a white father." </p><p>I smile, leaning in. "Go white boy go. You're my mayonnaise menace. In more ways than one—" I start.</p><p>Clay interrupts with a sputtered laugh, lifting a hand to push my shoulder. I recover, then press in close, bumping him back. After that, we quickly refocus. We really do only have a bit of time. </p><p>***</p><p>Getting on the plane is easy enough. </p><p>The plane ride is also easy enough. We get a little noisy, a little handsy, getting glared at a few times, but Patches stays calm, so I count that as a win. </p><p>I fall asleep for the tail end of the ride. The last thing I remember is me petting Clay's hair, head on his shoulder, watching as I force him to play Minecraft on my switch. After that, it's me being startled awake, the plane making noises, looking out and realizing we've landed. </p><p>Getting off the plane is... boring. Getting our luggage is... equally boring. The first exciting thing to happen is when we step out of the building after Clay picks up the keys to our rental car.</p><p>"Holy fucking good goddamn—" I sputter out, feeling a blast of chilled wind hit my face. </p><p>I whine, immediately crowding up to Clay, like I can hide from it. He laughs at me. </p><p>"Stop—" He wheezes out, as I fight to jam my hands up his back. "Baby stop it hurts to fucking— it hurts to breathe—" He continues wheezing. </p><p>"It hurts to exist!" I shout, alarmingly cold. </p><p>Clay keeps laughing, guiding me to the side. "C—C'mon. Car— car pick up is— please—" He continues, startled as I jam my hands down his pants. </p><p>"I know your dick is warm. Forfeit its heat or I'm going to cock and ball torture you with a mallet." I demand, petulant, fighting as he struggles to get away from me. Still, he's laughing. </p><p>Clay manages to get out of my arms then just: runs. I yelp, running after him. He's much faster, due to his height advantage. It feels like I watch in slow motion as he steps on a patch of soft, loose, snow, and slides. I gasp, surprised, hearing him yelp, then watch as he immediately wipes out.</p><p>I fold, cackling like a maniac, drawing in labored breaths that hurt from the cold air. I have to cover my face, nearly screeching. I continue to stumble toward him, still laughing as he glares back. He can only maintain a serious expression for a moment, lips fighting to twitch into a smile. </p><p>"You're fucking joking." I sputter out. "You did not just— baby's first snow! Forgets that ice— forgets..." I keep laughing, having to bite my lip to stifle it. "Frostwalker enchantment in real life?!?! Not clickbait!!" I tease. </p><p>Clay grumbles, rocking back to his feet. "Yeah, yeah. Live it up. Keep laughing. I'll surrender to you no cock heat, wench." He teases back, finally letting himself smile.</p><p>I fake pout back, catching his hand, guiding him forward. "Hold on tight. Walking grandpa so he doesn't fa— AH—" I try to tease, but Clay pulls my arm, and I immediately stumble, falling into his chest. </p><p>I sneer, but stop my teasing, plastering myself to his side with both hands wrapping around his free one. It feels like a long walk, my skin beginning to numb as we finally get to the rental. It's... a Tesla. I briefly open my mouth, considering going on a rant about the ethics of the vehicle, but the horny jumps out first. </p><p>"It has self-driving so I can definitely suck your dick on the way..." I say, then pause, closing my eyes as I process what I just said. </p><p>Get a grasp. </p><p>Clay snorts a laugh. "Yeah?" He starts, teasing, opening the backseat and hefting his bag and Patches in. I follow suit. "There are two wolves inside of you." He speaks, then looks up to meet my eyes. "One wants to suck my dick in a car, the other wants to be in a car while you suck my dick." </p><p>I glare. "I will bite. I will bite your dick off." </p><p>Clay moans, rolling his eyes back. "Please mommy my vore-fetish is—" </p><p>I shout, interrupting him before he can finish, slamming myself in the car and slamming the door shut. Clay follows in quick, hopping into the driver's seat chuckling, proud of himself. He starts the car, then glances over, briefly rolling his hips. </p><p>"Well... we're certainly in the car..." He mumbles, curling into a smile. </p><p>I tilt my head, connecting my phone to the radio to play music, looking into the backseat, meeting eyes with Patches. </p><p>"She's watching. So no." I chastise.</p><p>Clay cranes his neck to look back at her, pushing a hand forward to dip his fingers into the crate, scratching her chin. </p><p>"Read the room, Patches. Look away and go to sleep." He whispers, and I lift a hand to cover my laugh.</p><p>He looks up, proud of himself, retracting his hand to plant it on my thigh, edging higher. "C'mon. How am I supposed to wait two whole hours..." He teases. </p><p>I roll my eyes. "My pussy isn't gonna survive if you keep acting like this." </p><p>"True." He says, but retracts into his space, shifting into reverse. "That sounds like a you problem, though." </p><p>I grin, laying my head on his shoulder, settling in for the ride, wondering if we'll actually make it the full two hours.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. deja vu (plot, smut)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>deja vu by justin bieber is a banger dont @ me</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"No like it's actually super cool—" Clay rambles next to me. </p><p>About half an hour into the drive it turned into all straight roads, and he decided he trusted it enough to turn on self driving mode. I nod into his shoulder. I'm interested but... my mind drifts. </p><p>He's using his hands to speak. It's catching my eyes, and most of my attention. I'm watching him gesture, connect his hands, say something about the feats in coding necessary to—</p><p>God his hands. </p><p>"Mhm." I mumble rubbing my cheek to his shirt. </p><p>I'm listening. For sure... I'm... </p><p>"I gotta tell George about this later." </p><p>I perk up for that. "Just tell him now." I suggest.</p><p>Clay considers it for just a moment, then shrugs, shifting his hips to pull out his phone. He's quick in connecting it to the car, then calls. </p><p>"Dream? Shouldn't you be busy?" George answers. </p><p>"So I'm in a car right now, guess what kind." Clay says back. </p><p>There's a moment of silence, time delay, before George can speak. "Is that why you called me? To make me guess your car? Is that all?"</p><p>Clay laughs, splitting into a wide smile next to me, excited. "Yeah. Well, I mean, I like talking to you, too, but I've got important shit on the mind. Guess the car." </p><p>George hums. "Well say hi to my stream, first." </p><p>"You're streaming?" Clay asks back.</p><p>My brows lift in surprise. I guess it's time to be extra quiet. I lean back over into my own seat, carefully, pulling my phone out to message George on Discord.</p><p>'hi!!!!! im here too but im gonna stay quiet i think'<br/>
'after the twitter whatever' 1:37 pm</p><p>"Yeah! You still didn't say hi, Dream." George responds.</p><p>"Hey!" Clay says back, then lowers his voice, briefly giggling. "Everybody tell George he looks good today." </p><p>My phone buzzes, and I see it's a text back from George. </p><p>'got it 👀'<br/>
'Dream told me about the trip ages ago'<br/>
'hope you cool cats have fun ;)' 1:38 pm</p><p>Oh? Did he? </p><p>"You can't even see me!" George says back. </p><p>Clay laughs it off. "Guess the damn car, George." </p><p>I get distracted again, hearing Clay's voice as he banters with his friend. He's beaming. My eyes flick down his neck, tracing his body. I turn to double check, seeing that Patches is curled up asleep now.</p><p>I can't help myself.</p><p>I lean in, slow, careful, making sure Clay has the space and time to stop me if he wants. He turns to look at me, brow briefly furrowing. I close the distance, landing my mouth on his neck, planting my hand to his stomach and dragging my thumb along his shirt. </p><p>I hear his breath hitch as I drag my lips across his skin. I dart my tongue out, just to taste, reveling in the way he shivers. His eyes flutter, brief, as he melts into my manipulation. I drag my hand up from his stomach, to his chest, sneaking my lips along his jaw. I can feel his voice vibrating his throat against my lips and his chest vibrating against my fingertips as he continues to speak. He speaks to George like nothing is happening. Though, he's breathier, just slightly distracted. </p><p>I move my mouth to Clay's ear, exhaling directly onto it. "Can I go further?" I ask, as quiet as possible.</p><p>He doesn't respond, other than to wrap an arm around my upper back and tug me closer. I suck in my lip, holding my breath, dragging my fingertips down his chest and stomach, landing at his waistband. I toy with it, looking up at his face, seeing the growing flush on his cheeks, then dip in, slipping my hand into his boxers.</p><p>Clay shudders, lifting a hand to cover his mouth, barely stifling a moan.</p><p>"You okay? What was that?" George asks, right as I wrap my hand around Clay's cock. </p><p>He moans, uninhibited, high, whiny, then tries to cover it up with several 'mhm's. </p><p>"S-sorry." Clay stutters out. "Uh— I just— I just— I was thinking about how when I was a kid my family took a trip to Arizona—" </p><p>I freeze for less than a millisecond, before I retract my hand and body back into my own space. Clay shoots me a grateful puppy-eyed look.</p><p>"—and it would have been convenient to have self driving." He finishes, blowing out a tense breath and landing a hand on my thigh.</p><p>I worry my lip, covering his hand with both of mine, wondering if I pushed him too far. I trace his veins down to his fingers, then wrap my full hand around his index and middle, holding tight. </p><p>I settle my head back onto Clay's shoulder, silently listening to the conversation he and George have until it's done. I'm surprised how long it goes, just over an hour. There are multiple moments where I have to hold my laugh, or take a shuddered breath in private. </p><p>Still, the second Clay hangs up I speak. "Hey, I'm sorry if that was— well, obviously it was too much." </p><p>"It's all good." He mumbles, tugging me in until he can press a kiss to my forehead. "I just— not during a stream, yeah? I mean, maybe mine. But, not someone else's." He presses another kiss as I nod.</p><p>"Yessir." I speak, soft, still feeling guilty. </p><p>I watch the smile melt Clay's face. "Tease." </p><p>I scrunch my brow. "How?" </p><p>"Yes sir." He says back. "Got my dick doing jumping jacks." </p><p>I roll my eyes. "It's an expression, horndog." </p><p>"Yeah? Well, I'm a simp, you say the magic words, and I activate hardened Clay." He says.</p><p>I huff, barely holding a cackle. I cannot deal with this man sometimes. "Simp? You know that insinuates that my pussy is mediocre. That's what the m—" </p><p>"No." Clay interrupts. "A person doesn't cry over mediocre pussy. I just meant the term colloquially." </p><p>I puff my lip out, teasing. "Aw. You cry over my pussy?"</p><p>Clay looks briefly hesitant, something serious leaking into his expression. "Well... I mean. Like... you. I guess. I meant you. I cry over you just uh... just in general." He says.</p><p>My pout turns real, hands massaging his as he returns the affection by rubbing soothing circles into my thigh. I lean in, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "You don't need to cry for me. I'm right here. I'm always right here, just waiting for you." I say, genuine.</p><p>Clay exhales, squeezing again. "That can be overwhelming, too." </p><p>"Wh— how?" I question.</p><p>He hesitates for only a moment. "I get— I get overwhelmed, alright." He says, an admission. "I— sometimes I'm scared. And I'm— I'm afraid you'll get bored of me." He pauses, dragging in a breath. "Tired of me— something." </p><p>I stare at Clay in disbelief. He thinks I'm going to get tired of him? </p><p>He glances at me, then barrels forward. "You're my dreamgirl, alright. I—I,  I don't wanna fuck anything up." </p><p>I squeeze his hand tighter, burying in his shoulder. "You mean so much more to me than you're giving yourself credit for." </p><p>Clay goes quiet, breaths soft and deep. "In what way?" He asks.</p><p>Well... time for another truth time. </p><p>"I get scared, too." I say.</p><p>He eyes me, curious. I press another kiss to his shoulder before barreling forward.</p><p>"I get scared at how much it means to be loved the way—" I push forward, poking his chest, "—you love me. The second you opened up with me you became so..." I pause to take a shuddered breath. "Loud? I guess, to admit it, with your words, I mean. You just look at me and you can say it. And like—" I have to stop again, feeling overwhelmed, seeing the concern knitting Clay's face. </p><p>I lean in, pressing another kiss to his shoulder, looking up at him through my lashes. "It's like... I know that I feel the same but the words are difficult to choke out. I just don't want—" I pause, collecting my thoughts again. "I fight to admit how much you mean to me, because I feel like the second I do, the second I say some of the things you can say to me with ease, I'm giving you the power to absolutely destroy me—" I take a tense breath. "I mean, I-I guess." </p><p>Clay's hand goes delicate, fingers brushing across my thigh as gentle as he can. "I'm not." He says, voice soft, barely audible. "I could never do that to you." </p><p>I tilt my head, rubbing my cheek to his shoulder, feeling nerves bloom in my system at the severity of the conversation. Becoming a coward, as I do. I take a breath, steeling myself, hoping I can maintain a grasp on the verbal courage I've had.</p><p>"I'm starting to know that. Something in me gets it. I just... the way you trust is admirable. I can't imagine getting hurt the way you've been and still being able to look at me and just—" I look up at his face, trying to lean in as close as I physically can. "You can say 'I love you' like it's nothing."</p><p>Clay laughs, but it sounds choked. "It's not... it's not like nothing." He says, rapidly blinking before squeezing me again. "I think I get it though. I feel it too, well, I felt it too." He pauses to worry his lip before turning to stare at me. "I... I had my own moment but, with you, I uh— I know."</p><p>I crack into a grin, shaking my head. "There's that weird cryptic shit again. You know?" </p><p>Clay drags his tongue along his lip, carefully considering me. He pulls in a shuddered breath right as he speaks. "You're fucking— you're it for me. There's the pull in the back of my head that tells me I'm done. Like completely. This—" He gestures between us. "Is my ending." </p><p>I blink at the words, feeling my stomach go tight, then completely retract into my own space. That's— it's— he's said— Clay has been serious before, called me end-game, but the severity with which he said that is— daunting. I watch his face, expecting it to set again, but it stays vulnerable, soft. </p><p>"You're it for me." He speaks again, almost whispered. It makes everything in my body go reactive.</p><p>"I'm—" I start, freezing up. "I'm really sorry—" I choke out, hating the brief reflection of hurt in Clay's eyes. </p><p>"Why?" He asks, small, mumbled. </p><p>Shit. Fuck. </p><p>"I can't— I don't know if I'll ever—" I hate the hurt I watch flood Clay's face because I'm bad with my words. </p><p>I do what I know I can do, and dart both hands forward, planting them anywhere on his body I can reach. I tilt in, until I can press my face to his shoulder, then do. </p><p>"I'm sorry it's me. I'm sorry I can't give you same type of reassurance. Because... Christ. What your words do to me... should be illegal. The things you do to me, to my fucking heart, Clay." I say, as articulate as I can manage, then, to lighten the mood: "You make my stummy hurt."</p><p>He laughs, turning to cautiously eye me, tension melting from his face. "It's okay. You say it in your own way. I've got you." He mumbles, swinging an arm around me to tug me in flush. </p><p>"In my own way?" I question.</p><p>Clay turns for a moment, briefly responding to a prompt by the car that's making sure he isn't asleep. "Mhm." He says back, and that's all he says back.</p><p>I huff. "Care to elaborate?" I question.</p><p>He looks at me again, smile curling his lips. "Our love languages differ a lot. Obviously, I can give words of affirmation, and we share acts of service—" </p><p>"You have gift giving, too." I butt in.</p><p>I watch Clay's cheeks flood with color, even as he glares. "And I have gift giving. But you..." He goes quiet, soft. "Physical touch." </p><p>I roll my eyes. "Oh. You know I care about you because I give pussy on demand." I say, almost disappointed. </p><p>Clay laughs. "Are you gonna let me finish speaking?" He asks. </p><p>I look at him, see the severity of his expression, and falter. I nod into his shoulder, ducking my head, feeling guilty and small.</p><p>"Yes. But no." He continues, then slowly drags his hand up the length of my thigh. "It's much more complex than that." He looks up, meeting my eyes. "We're gonna get to the cabin in about forty-five minutes. I'll take you inside and explain then, yeah?" </p><p>I flutter my eyes, nodding into his shoulder. I assume this explanation is going to happen in a bed. Which... is a hell of a lot easier than trying to choke out words right now. Still, it doesn't ease the tension stringing my body. The rest of the drive is almost silent, a few mumbled observations and jokes from each of us here and there, but the weight of the words we spoke hang heavily in the air. </p><p>It feels like time is standing the closer we get. The last five minutes of the drive feel like an hour on their own. Maybe it's a good thing we're quiet, though. The roads aren't... great, due to the weather, and I know big man hasn't driven on snow much if ever. He's careful, methodic, handling the vehicle differently, responding to how it slides. It's almost as nerve-wracking as what's going on between us.</p><p>I just want to close my eyes. Hide from it. So I do, burying my face in Clay's neck and pretending nothing is happening. </p><p>I feel the car lurch to a stop, but don't bother to open my eyes until I feel a kiss press to my forehead. </p><p>"We're here, c'mon." Mumbles Clay, and I finally pull out of his neck.</p><p>I open my eyes again, taking a moment to readjust to the brightness of the snow. I look around. We're definitely... in the middle of nowhere. Other than trees and snow, there's the building we're staying in. It's woody, quaint. </p><p>I'm hesitant to open my door, knowing that for one, we're going to walk in and have a... 'conversation', and for two... it's fucking cold. I have to brace, swinging my door open. A shiver briefly travels across my body, a small yelp in my throat as the air hits. It's even colder than before, which, I didn't expect. </p><p>I barely don't scream as I hop out of the car, eager to grab my bag and rush inside, like I can hide from the temperature. Clay laughs, watching me go. I barrel into the cabin without a second to observe and think.</p><p>It's... warmer inside. But not as warm as I need it to be. I spot a fireplace and come to a conclusion. </p><p>"Oh my God?" I question, poking my head back out the door to look at Clay.</p><p>"Are you going to like— fetch firewood and like— do like a lumberjack thing and like—"</p><p>He grimaces, locking the car and walking toward me with his own bag and Patches. I watch him approach, rapidly toeing off my shoes, backing up to give him space. </p><p>"Why would I do all of that? There's electric heat. It's just turned down." He responds.</p><p>My mouth parts, thoughts moving glacially. "It'd— it's— it'd be kinda hot. Kinda Minecrafty too, right? Like collecting wood and..." I taper off, seeing Clay's expression.</p><p>"Who do you think I am? I'm— I'm not collecting firewood. We live in the modern age. I'm gonna turn the heat up." He says, dropping his bag and Patches, then wanders away to do just that. </p><p>I sneer at his back, lock the door, then drop to a crouch to open up Patches' crate. She peers around for a moment, body low, before she slinks out, cautious, curious. </p><p>"Sorry." I mumble to her. "This probably sucks for you right now." I push a hand toward her, letting her nose my fingers before going behind the ears. She seems to relax somewhat.</p><p>We both jump as we hear a mechanical thump, but it's quickly explained by the following sound of hot air blowing. I decide to sit all the way down, legs spread, hunched over. Patches huddles close to me in my lap, but doesn't relax, carefully looking around the space.</p><p>Clay reappears, kicking his own shoes off right in the middle of the hallway, then lumbers over, flopping to the floor with me and fully laying down. My lap is immediately forfeit by Patches, as she crawls over to him, mashing her face into his neck. I hear soothing mumbles from low in his throat. I know they're for her, but something about it steadies me, as well. </p><p>I lift a hand to the back of Clay's head, idly dragging my fingers through his hair, petting him too, nerves from earlier blooming again. He briefly looks up at me and we meet eyes. We stay locked like that, searching each other's faces, finding the intensity from earlier.</p><p>"I'm fucking cold." I express with a short laugh, hoping to break it. </p><p>Clay just blinks at me, melting into a smile. "You're not getting out of this one." He says, quiet and gentle.</p><p>I have to swallow my tongue, freezing up. I wanted to lessen the tension, not compound it. He must notice how tight I'm holding myself, because he finally breaks the eye contact, turning to press a kiss to a much more relaxed looking Patches. She quickly wriggles out of his arms, curious and exploratory, wandering off to scout the cabin. </p><p>I find myself staring at the floor, avoiding Clay's eyes, especially now that we don't have a buffer. I startle when one of his hands lifts, landing on my waist, rubbing with his thumb. </p><p>"C'mon. I'll warm you up." He mumbles, and I let out a heavy breath. </p><p>We have sex... a lot. Christ, we had sex today. But this feels... this feels defining. </p><p>I stay frozen as Clay slaps his hands to the floor, pushing back up to standing. He extends a hand in front of my face, an offer. I take it, and he hups, helping me swing to my feet, and then some, tugging me into his chest. </p><p>I'm hesitant, but manage to lift my hands to his hoodie, tangling my fingers in the fabric. The silence between us is heavy. I assume he's making an example of me, which is immediately proven. </p><p>"You don't need to talk." Clay starts, hand dropping to my lower back, guiding me toward where he must know the bedroom is. "Unless you want to stop me, you don't need to talk." He clarifies. </p><p>I take in a sharp breath, nodding. I can do that. That's... easy, I think. We step into our bedroom for the next few days. It's dated but comfortable, a dark comforter spread across the iron-framed bed. </p><p>Clay starts to guide me, and I melt into it, pliant with every push and adjustment. He gets me to turn, cupping my lower-back, guiding me to sit on the side of the bed. It creaks, and I realize it might be a little more dated than it seems. </p><p>The second I'm sat down, Clay crouches in front of me, wrapping his fingers around my ankle like it's something delicate. I startle once I realize he's pulling off my socks for me. Embarrassed, I try to tug back.</p><p>"I—I can—" I start, but he immediately looks up at me, eyes piercing. </p><p>"Be quiet, baby." He says.</p><p>I listen, falling silent, trying to relax, let him do anything he wants. The second he's done with my socks he stands and does the same to his own. He scoots in close, cupping either side of my face, dragging his thumbs along my cheeks. </p><p>We hold, for only a moment, before Clay's stepping back and pulling his hoodie off. His shirt briefly lifts up in the process, exposing his stomach. My eyes drop to it, following the line of hair down, just before his shirt falls back into place. I hear the hoodie hit the floor with a thump, then suddenly his hands are on me again. They play with the fabric of my hoodie, gliding across the hem of the article, before slowly pushing it up. </p><p>It's all silence, all breath as I raise my arms, helping him remove the outer layer. It lands on the floor with a similar thump, then a hand, warm and massive, plants on my waist.</p><p>Clay is gentle, handling me further up the mattress, guiding me to lay flat on my back. Words burn at the base of my throat, some teasing, some desperate, all stifled. He climbs into the creaking bed with me, and my legs automatically part, making the space he needs to settle between then. He accepts, like it's the only thing he can do, slotting our bodies together. </p><p>His fingers play with the hem of my shirt, slipping underneath. The second our skin connects, my breath hitches. He looks up with a proud smile.</p><p>"This is what I mean. You can get so tight-lipped baby..." He mumbles, then leans in until we're sharing breath, lips close enough to kiss, but not connecting quite yet. </p><p>Clay watches me like a study, then steadies himself, roughly rolling his hips against me, pressing our everything flush. I moan, soft and quiet, unavoidable. </p><p>"But your body talks." He says, breathy, right against my lips, interrupting anything I could say by locking our mouths together and pressing in with his tongue.</p><p>My eyes flutter shut, head tilting back with a whimper. He's working me. The way only he knows how. I hate that I can't— do anything about it. That... I don't want to do anything about it. He knows how to touch me, move me, he knows—</p><p>"I know you love me." Clay mumbles. "You said it yourself. You're like this—" he rolls his hips again, getting a whimpered moan from high in my throat. "—only ever for me." </p><p>I nod, swallowing around my nerves, feeling Clay press another feather light kiss to the corner of my lips.</p><p>"It's the same thing I feel..." He breathes out, lips dragging down to my jaw so he can mouth there, slowly starting to roll against me in a rhythm. "I don't want anyone like I want you." </p><p>I have to lift both of my hands for that, landing them on his shoulders, digging in with my fingers and holding tight. This is— this—</p><p>"I just use my words to express it. I love you. Simple as that." Clay mumbles out, then attaches his mouth to my neck, rolling the skin between his teeth.</p><p>I moan, desperate, before struggling to find my voice. "I—I, I can— use words t— ah—" I'm interrupted as Clay rolls his hips particularly rough, latching onto my throat and sucking a bruise.</p><p>I moan, everything melting as he works my body. </p><p>"I said be quiet baby." Clay breathes out, pausing to soothe his love bite with his tongue. "You're interrupting our conversation." </p><p>I fall completely silent, swallowing the rest of my words, body rocking underneath of his. </p><p>Clay pulls back, lifting just far enough to watch his fingers graze against my skin as he pushes my shirt further up. It's like electric where his skin connects with mine, dull thuds of my heartbeat heavy in my chest.</p><p>This is suffocating. The amount I feel for him... is suffocating. My breaths become deeper, heavier, emotions charging the way our bodies connect. </p><p>Clay cups my face, dragging his thumb along my lip, before he drops to hold my shoulder, propping me up so he can get my shirt off. The second it's off, he's hooking his fingers into the fabric of my bra, pushing it up, over my breasts, then off. He guides me to lay back down, then retracts into his own space, pulling his shirt off as well.</p><p>I arch underneath of Clay almost involuntarily, grinding our bodies together. He melts into a smile. </p><p>"You always do this." He says, quiet, and I wonder what he means for only a second before his head dips.</p><p>Clay kisses my neck, down my collar, to my chest. I whimper as he reaches my breasts, nipples reactive to just his breath. I arch, pressing my chest toward his mouth. He huffs a laugh.</p><p>"You're so mouthy. Without even a single fucking word. You're—" He sighs, cutting himself off, pushing his tongue out, flat, to lap at my nipple.</p><p>My legs lift, squeezing him tight, heat blooming across my skin. He's relentless, kissing, biting, bruising everywhere on my breasts, toying with me, listening to me get desperate. Despite what he tells me to do, I have to beg.</p><p>"Please—" slips from my mouth, carried on a desperate breath.</p><p>Clay laughs against my chest, hands dropping to the waistband of my sweats and tugging them halfway down my thighs. I squirm underneath of him, nervous, body hyper reactive. His head follows the movement down, until he's pressing his lips where the waistband of my underwear rests.</p><p>My hips rock as he goes lower, pressing a kiss to my pussy over the thin fabric. There's a small noise in my throat that slips, but he catches it, huffing a laugh.</p><p>"You'll let me do any goddamn thing I want, won't you?" He questions, pressing another kiss before dropping his mouth to my thighs.</p><p>I whine and nod, holding back my words, body shivering. </p><p>"I bet you're cold." Clay says, then he's off the mattress, off me. </p><p>I whine, rolling to follow, curling in on myself. Clay works quick, dropping his sweats, then pulling mine all the way off for me. The second they're off he's tugging at the comforter under me, forcing it down. I lift my hips, then legs to help as he pulls it out. </p><p>He keeps it held up, just for himself, then crawls in under it with me, pressing our hips together again. With the pants out of the way I can feel everything. The length of his hard cock presses between my legs, grinding my clit through our underwear as our hips roll together. </p><p>Clay dips again, retreating under the blanket, kissing down my stomach, getting right back between my legs. I rock, spreading myself open, inviting him.</p><p>"Even when I'm nowhere near you..." He starts, and my stomach goes tight, anticipating the words. "Even when you freak out and run..." </p><p>Finally, his fingers dip into the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down my legs and off. My legs spread further to accept him as he leans back in. He lays his head on my thigh, pushing forward with his fingers, sliding them through my pussy. </p><p>"When you're like this, I know the truth about how you feel." He mumbles, kissing my thigh one more time before two fingers push into my pussy, filling me. "My little fucking whore, dripping wet from a kiss." He speaks, voice teasing.</p><p>I have to swallow, fluttering around his fingers, darting a hand down to thread my fingers into his hair and pull. </p><p>"This— this is so fucking— embarrassing—" I whimper out, hips briefly lifting as his fingers curl inside of me, pressing everything sensitive.</p><p>Clay laughs, pressing a kiss to my hip. "I know. Are you going to tell me to stop?" He questions, knowing damn well I won't.</p><p>There's silence, followed by: "That's what I thought. Good girl." </p><p>His fingers curl and his head finally shifts, tongue landing to circle around my clit as he fucks his fingers inside of me. I flutter my pussy, small moans reverberating in my throat.</p><p>Clay just hums, flicking with his tongue, pressing his fingers as deep as he can. My eyes roll back in my head, breaths already panted, desperate. Before I can surrender to the sensation, it ends. He's sitting up, pushing his boxers down and off to free his cock. </p><p>"I'm ready to hear what you have to say." He breathes out, fingers digging into my thigh as he lines himself up. </p><p>I open my mouth to speak, to tell him—</p><p>Clay claps his hand over my mouth, hips shifting forward to slowly push his cock inside of me. I arch from the stretch, eyes rolling back. He returns with long exhale, gripping my face to keep my mouth covered. I go tight, milking his cock, and he melts into a smile. </p><p>"I hear you baby, keep talking." He mumbles, so I go tight again, clenching around his cock.</p><p>This smug son of a—</p><p>Clay laughs, head rolling on his shoulders, eyes fluttering in ecstasy. "You think I don't hear that?" He asks, then starts to roll his hips teasingly slow. "God, it's so fucking loud— such a perfect fucking hole just for me to fucking— God—" </p><p>I barely manage to keep my eyes open, lifting my legs to hook them around his hips, trying my best to think about what he's expressing, realizing he's right. This is my vulnerable, my love letter, my expression of trust.</p><p>His hand drops off my face, curling around my neck, holding loosely. It's a warning of what's to come. He's giving me my chance to speak up— tell him no— tell him—</p><p>"I care about you so fucking much." I stutter out, shuddering through a moan as Clay's hips snap.</p><p>His hand tenses and I gasp, arching toward him. </p><p>"I love you too. I'm so fucking proud of you." He mumbles, leaning in to catch my lips. "You make me so—" He presses another kiss. "So proud to call you mine." He breathes out, then finally snaps his hips again, thrusting his cock into me with actual intent. </p><p>I moan, wild, head tilting back, oxygen deprivation starting to fade in as Clay's hand goes tighter. I manage to keep my eyes open, meeting his eye contact as he starts to find a rhythm in the way he's fucking me. The quiet of the room fills with the creak of the bed, my moans, and his shuddered breaths. </p><p>I clench again, watch his eyes flutter, feeling his hips slow. "Yeah—" he sighs out, squeezing my neck. "You feel so fucking good on my cock, baby."</p><p>I'm urged to talk back, but can't find the wherewithal, not after earlier. I search his face, holding eye-contact as our bodies collide. It dawns on me, what he means when he says 'I know' or 'I'm done'. I'm starting to feel it too. </p><p>I know what I want. </p><p>"Hey, daddy—" I breathe out, soft, careful, feeling the way his hips falter in their movement, hand going looser around my neck. I love the way it makes him melt. </p><p>I lift my arms, making grabby hands. Clay eases back into a smile, face relaxed, then adjusts his hips so he can come down on me, the full length of our bodies pressing flush. Our mouths meet, soft, slow, barely dragging against each other, tongues brushing with no insistence. </p><p>I sigh into the kiss, pulling back just enough to speak, right into his ear.</p><p>"Fuck me slower." I request, soft.</p><p>Clay's hips go glacial. Each of his thrusts drags the full length of his cock out of me before he slowly pushes it back in. It's not enough for either of us to cum for a long time.</p><p>It's perfect.</p><p>He keeps pressed into my neck, relaxing there, mouthing at my skin, leisurely rolling his hips. This isn't about sex. This is about us, about the heat generating between our bodies, about how perfectly we fit together in this creaky ass bed, about how much we need each other.</p><p>I shudder through a sigh, moans drawn out every time the head of Clay's cock drags against the most sensitive parts of me. He shudders right back, moans of his own low and soft as our bodies roll together.</p><p>It's weird to feel everything, to be so... present. The way the ridge of his cock's head catches at my entrance, just slightly stretching me further. The way everything between my legs is dripping wet, just to take his cock better.</p><p>Pleasure melts my brain, my body, my conscious, the collision of our bodies an inevitable. I keep fluttering, moaning every time Clay's lips connect to me with a kiss. His mouth stays demanding against my neck, nipping at the skin, tongue soothing every new bite and bruise. </p><p>"I get it." I breathe out, pleasure spiking in my abdomen. </p><p>Clay gets excited, his hips involuntarily speeding up, pushing his cock deeper inside of me, faster. </p><p>"Get what baby?" He asks into my neck.</p><p>I lift my hands, petting his hair. </p><p>"When you say you know. I get it. I know too." I reply.</p><p>He makes a pleased noise, hips snapping hard enough we jerk up the mattress, folding my body up.</p><p>My legs tighten, wrapping around his lower back particularly hard. It might be time to chase the pleasure, start fucking to finish instead of relax. I soothe my hands down his neck, to his shoulders, then grip. </p><p>"You can make me cum now." I breathe out, quiet, turning to press a kiss to his cheekbone.</p><p>Clay nods into my neck, hips adjusting to just slightly tilt me, then his head lifts. He stares for just a moment, supporting himself on his elbows. We breathe, then he's rolling his hips. I arch, head tilting back, moan wobbled in my throat. </p><p>"Ah, I really love that." He says, melting into a smile, snapping his hips again to the same reaction. </p><p>This time, he catches my mouth as I moan. The second our lips meet, his hips find their rhythm, cock dragging in and out of me to set a rough pace. He swallows all of my moans, dragging our lips together for a surprisingly desperate kiss.</p><p>The way our bodies connect is communicative. </p><p>I moan into Clay's mouth, eyes constantly rolling back, legs squeezing his waist. This is isn't going to be long. Not when it's him. Not when he's fucking me like this. </p><p>I flutter my eyes. "You feel so fucking good, daddy." I sigh. "So good." </p><p>Clay moans, locking our lips into another kiss, hips moving faster, harder, connecting with my body hard enough I bounce against him, dragging along the sheets. I have to grit my teeth, body slowly pulling tighter and tighter as I barrel toward my orgasm.</p><p>"I'm— close—" I whimper out, feeling the heat branch from low in my abdomen.</p><p>I feel his cock throb inside of me as I tighten up, and briefly hope it'll be enough to make him feel good. I have to dig in with my nails, breaths pathetic, exhales whimpered, feeling myself get stretched open, split on his cock. </p><p>"Go ahead, baby. Cum when you want." Clay mumbles out.</p><p>I nod, whining and holding tighter with my hands. My body listens, pleasure overwhelming me. I arch as I orgasm, entire body shaking with the effort.</p><p>Clay shushes me as my moans go high, whiny, my legs pulling tight enough to hurt as he continues to pound into me.</p><p>"You want my cum?" He asks, voice teasing.</p><p>I nod, still cum-lax, legs shifting into a tremble as my body starts to overstimulate. </p><p>"C'mon." I mumble back. "Give it to me." My voice is quiet, relaxed, body throbbing while split open on his cock. </p><p> Clay huffs a laugh. "You're telling me to— ah— to cum. And your tight fucking— God—" I go tighter, just to antagonize. It must work, because he falters, body folding, face dipping to press into my neck.</p><p>"Tight little slut—" He says into my neck, voice desperate. </p><p>My eyes roll back into my head, hips twitching as he continues to fuck my cum-soft body into the mattress. </p><p>"You feel— you feel so—" I mumble out, dragging my hands back up to hook into his hair as he presses kisses to my neck. </p><p>"I know baby, I know. Your body is— it told me already." He says, quiet, then snaps his hips.</p><p>"Feels fuckin' good, doesn't it?" He asks, cocky.</p><p>I hate that I nod, whimpering, wondering if I might just cum again. Clay just hums, burying in my neck, nipping at the skin. </p><p>"You feel good too." He sighs out. "Such a good— such a good girl." I can hear it in his voice, and in the way his hips begin to falter. He's close.</p><p>"Clay c'mon—" I moan out, gripping tight.</p><p>"Yeah—" he breathes out, and I feel his upper body start to pull tight. </p><p>One of his hands fumbles, jerking my arm and pinning it to the mattress. He gropes down the length until he lands on my hand, then grips, tight. </p><p>"I'm gonna— I'm gonna cum baby. Just— just keep it— keep it tight." He sighs out, hips snapping harder in more jagged, pointed thrusts.</p><p>I moan, gripping his hand back. I can do him one better. I drag my other hand up his back, neck, and into his hair, briefly tugging, before dropping my hand off of him. I slip it between us, heading between my legs.</p><p>Clay watches it, huffing a small laugh. </p><p>"Yeah? Gonna fucking cum for me again?" He asks, grinning down at me as I land where I want.</p><p>My hips immediately buck, forcing his cock to angle, fingers stuttering against my clit. We release matching moans. My eyes flutter, then shut. I know my mouth is just open at this point, constantly releasing a stream of moans. </p><p>I feel Clay press his mouth back to my neck, squeezing my hand tight, and the pressure starts to build. I angle my fingers perfect, playing with myself just right, entire body arching into the sensation. It doesn't take much before my legs are shaking, rest of my body pulled tense as I crest over. </p><p>I ease into a guttural moan as I cum again, everything going tight. Swears drip from Clay's mouth, the movement of his hips faltering. </p><p>"Holy fuck baby— c'mon—" He whimpers, gripping my hand, dropping his chin to my forehead.</p><p>His thrusts are intentional, rough. </p><p>"Cum for me, please." I moan out, clenching one more time. </p><p>Clay whines, pressing as close to me as he can, throbbing where he's buried inside of me. His hips snap one more time, before he stills, and his cock jerks, a flood of warmth filling my abdomen. He shudders, noises high and needy as he rolls his hips again. </p><p>I laugh, bright and happy, lifting my free hand to hook into his hair and pull.</p><p>"Feels so fucking good— you feel so fucking good." I mumble out, tilting my head back to kiss at his jaw.</p><p>Clay immediately shifts into it, pressing our lips, then pressing into my mouth with his tongue, shaking in my arms from the aftershocks of his orgasm. </p><p>He starts to melt in my hands, whimpering into my mouth, pulling out of the kiss only to whisper praise before pressing right back in. </p><p>Clay pulls back after a moment, searching my face with half-lidded eyes. I smile up at him, clenching on his spent cock just to watch the the way his face goes lax for just a moment. He grins back. </p><p>"I love you, y'know? I just really do." He says, soft. </p><p>I nod, then lift, pressing a kiss to his chin. He huffs a small laugh, finally releasing my hand to cup my face, dragging his thumb along my cheek. </p><p>"I'm gonna get a towel, baby. Don't wanna mess up the sheets we're sleeping on for the next couple days." He mumbles, then lifts to his knees. carefully slipping out of me as I dart a hand down. </p><p>I push my fingers into myself, holding the cum inside. Clay watches it, looking incredibly smug, before rocking to his feet and lazily walking back out toward, I assume, the bathroom. I watch his ass as he goes. </p><p>He returns after a moment, holding a washcloth. He lands a hand on my thigh, sliding it up, then positions the washcloth. Cum drools out of me as I retract my fingers, but he's quick to catch it, wiping me down.</p><p>"Thanks." I murmur, pushing my hand down to wipe my fingers off as well. </p><p>Clay hums, folding down to press a kiss to my knee, his other hand landing on my stomach, rubbing soothing circles. It seems like a weird moment to feel tender... but it does. I search his expression, seeing the pure admiration and care for me plastered across his face as he cleans me. </p><p>"D'you get what I mean, now?" He asks.</p><p>I startle, looking at him. "What?" I question. </p><p>"When I said your love language was physical touch. You get it, right?" </p><p>I roll my eyes. "Clay." I huff. "You know damn well I got it somewhere between getting fingered and folded in half." </p><p>He grins. "Yeah. I just want to hear you say it." </p><p>I flip him off, slapping him away. Clay raises his hands in surrender, disappearing again before returning without the cum-rag. He dips, snagging his boxers and putting them on. He has to look for a moment, but finds his shirt, then kneels on the mattress. He man-handles me into the shirt. I stay lax the entire time, letting him take care of me. </p><p>As soon as he's done, he comes down, laying his head on my chest. Usually we take a goofier mood after sex, but something still feels... sappy about this. About the closeness, the touch. I lift both hands to pet his hair, relaxing, feeling my heart thud in my chest.</p><p>He definitely warmed me up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. baby it ain’t nothing new</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We haven't moved since we got back in bed. We're still tangled up, hands exploratory and soothing, touching to touch. Patches joined us after a bit, landing herself on Clay's back and curling up there.</p><p>"Would you rather have super strength, or super speed?" I ask, unprompted.</p><p>Clay hums where he's buried in my neck. "Speed seems more practical." </p><p>I consider that, soothing my hands down the back of his head. "Yeah... but consider this... strength would be sick as hell. Imagine getting in a fight with someone and just like, throwing a car at them. What're you gonna do with speed? Run away?"</p><p>Clay's laughs, brief, shaking Patches who lifts her head to glare. "You could just use the velocity of the speed to hit them really hard with something going super fast. You could be the car." </p><p>"Oh, that— that makes sense..." I pause to twirl his hair between my fingers. "That's why you're the smart one and I'm the..." I pause, lips twitching. "Funny one." </p><p>He chuckles, shaking his head. "Sure you are." He says, teasing.</p><p>Before I can speak again, Clay lifts his head, resting his chin on me, staring up at my face. </p><p>"Remember when I first stared fuckin' you?" He asks.</p><p>I blink, brows lifting. "Yeah...?" I hesitate before continuing. "What? You think I'd forget getting my pussy ate so good at 3 am I saw God?"</p><p>Clay's face scrunches up. "I was trying to have a moment." </p><p>"Oh—" I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. "Then, yes dear, I remember, I could never forget a night so magical."</p><p>"Fuck off." Clay grumbles, but continues. "I remember saying some shit like 'if you think I'd ever let our friendship get ruined, you're wrong' and I think that's funny now." </p><p>"Why's that funny?" I ask, lifting a knee to sway my leg.</p><p>"Ah, well. I was fucking lying." He says, then laughs, it's enough that Patches chirps, hopping off of him. "I hope I'm never your friend again."</p><p>I return with a laugh, and we briefly meet eyes. It makes his expression go soft. There's a heaviness in the words we're gearing up to say, but my eyes catch. In the grey evening light, through the window, I can see that it's snowing.</p><p>I squeeze Clay with my thighs. "It's snowing." I coo. </p><p>He turns to look, brief, before turning back and pressing a kiss to my chest. "C'mon. Let's go. I have a mission to complete." </p><p>I smile, heart thumping. It's finally time. We've been dating the past couple months, undeniably, but it's time to go make this official, finish the plan Clay had ages ago. </p><p>He lifts off of me, shuffling through our clothes to separate them into mine and his, then quickly gets dressed. I crawl out of bed to do the same, taking much longer due to the fact that I have to deal with slightly trembling legs.</p><p>I keep his shirt, so he just slips on his hoodie. We simultaneously jump to get into our sweats, and share a laugh. It's quick after that, us scrambling to get our shoes on and get out the door. I yelp as I feel the cold, continuously caught off guard by how sharp it is. </p><p>Clay's quick, plastering himself to my back and covering both of my hands with his own.</p><p>"I've got you." He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of my head.</p><p>I nod, words choked, looking up and smiling. The snow that's falling is heavy, wet, melting the second it contacts my skin. Clay wraps me tighter, tugging me away from the cabin. We get some distance, then he squeezes me.</p><p>"Ready? I've been practicing this: my big serious speech." He says, and I can't hold back my laugh. </p><p>"Are you going to do it from behind me?" I ask, tilting my head back to thump it into his chest. </p><p>Clay leans in, breath hot on my ear. "Why not?" He asks, then dips to press a kiss to my neck.</p><p>My entire body shivers from the sensation. "F-fair point." I say, then laugh again.</p><p>It's cut in my throat as he says my name, low, soft, almost quiet. It grabs all of my attention. </p><p>"Yeah?" I ask back, breathy. </p><p>"There's something I need to confess." </p><p>I quirk into a smile. "What is it?" </p><p>"When it comes to you..." He hesitates, voice dropping into something serious, collecting his thoughts. "Damn. I fucked up already." He mumbles.</p><p>I laugh, squeezing his hand. "Try again." </p><p>Clay nods, pressing another kiss, then speaks again. "When I'm with you... everything goes quiet." My breath hitches. </p><p>Alright. So he meant serious serious.</p><p>He continues. "I can have a moment of clarity before it's all back, the noise, the pressure the— the— the worrying and doubt and wondering if I—" He pauses to breathe, and I take the chance to let out a shuddered breath. "Wondering if I can keep all of this up, always one-upping myself, trying to do better, be better." He speaks before pausing again.</p><p>"But with you... you make me feel like I'm the best. Like I already won." He says, calm, quiet. </p><p>My stomach flutters, breath catching. </p><p>"I already decided you're the girl I'm going to marry, fuckin' someday. But, first..." Clay's hands are gentle, landing on my waist, helping me to turn and face him. </p><p>I search his expression. He looks vulnerable, earnest, cheeks flushed a deep red. </p><p>"I'd really like..." He leans in, until we share breath. "To kiss you." He says, but stays just barely back. "Would that be okay?" He asks.</p><p>I nearly whimper, nodding, eyes struggling to stay open. Clay's hand lifts, thumb dragging along my cheek with such a sincere tenderness it feels almost too good to be true. He closes the distance, his lips warm where they meld to mine. It's slow, careful, love and care expressed in the movement of our mouths. </p><p>It's enough I could cry.</p><p>My handle on my control rapidly slips, emotions welling in the back of my throat and behind my eyes.</p><p>It's enough I cry.</p><p>Clay pulls back, thumbing a tear from my cheek like it's nothing as my eyes flutter back open. I swallow around my tongue, heavy in my mouth, looking up at him, hoping my face says everything I'm thinking. </p><p>"I've got you." He breathes out, pressing a single soft peck more to my lips.</p><p>This time, with absolute certainty, I know he does. </p><p>He does. </p><p>"I know." I mumble back, lifting my hand to cover his wrist, nuzzling into his palm. </p><p>Clay pushes in closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. </p><p>"All I've ever wanted, I'm holding in my palm." He says, quiet, then presses another kiss. "It's alarming how fragile you look like this. How... losable." </p><p>I break into a smile, looking up at him. "Lock me down, then." </p><p>He smiles back. "Will you be with me? I know we're dating, essentially but... I'm just—" he pauses to swallow, "I'm so fucking proud of you. I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I love you."</p><p>It's quiet for a moment, other than our shared breath. </p><p>"I love you, too."</p><p>For once, it feels easy to say. There's no doubt, no catch in it, I don't have to think. I know. He knows too. We press in for another kiss, just as soft, yet... desperate. Despite being blanketed by cold, snowflakes flecking into my hair and skin, everything feels warm, safe. </p><p>When he pulls back again, there's a shift. It's not so... serious, fragile anymore. It's soft. The way we hold each other is soft. I smile, laying my head on his chest, and we sway with wind, wrapped in each other.</p><p>"You are the best, you know." I say, responding to what he said earlier. I look up at him. "But I think I'm the winner." I pause, hesitating to say something teasing, feeling the heaviness between us, watching Clay blink, slow, tears of his own forming. </p><p>I want to bite my tongue, but this needs to be genuine, this needs to be us. </p><p>"I won because I get to fuck a Minecraft Speedrunner." I say, quiet.</p><p>Clay's breaks into a wet laugh, dragging his tongue along his lip, rolling his eyes and blinking back tears. </p><p>"This is— this is exactly what I meant." He says, then dips to kiss my forehead again. "How am I supposed to care about anything else when that's in my ear?"</p><p>I giggle, burying into his chest. "I'm glad I can be that for you. I'll—" I let myself go serious again, looking up at his expression. "I'll always be right here, and I'll always love you, yeah? I love you."</p><p>Clay nods, squeezing his eyes shut tight as tears make another guest appearance. </p><p>"I know." He mumbles, then opens his eyes to look at me. "And that's the crazy part, right? I know." </p><p>***</p><p>"It's gonna be fine. Just be fucking— be normal. You've talked to them a thousand times." Clay says, his attempt at soothing.</p><p>I nod, stiff. It's been a week since the cabin. Today is Christmas day. We came to the executive decision that it was probably time to just be... out with it. Tell his family. </p><p>God I'm nervous. We're literally sitting in his driveway.</p><p>I fidget with my hands, going to pick my nails, worrying my lip. Clay catches it, covering my wrist to pull my hands apart without any other acknowledgment. </p><p>"Ready?" He asks, quiet. </p><p>I nod, otherwise silent, turning to look at Clay head on. I find him already staring, expression softer than expected. I pull back.</p><p>"What?" I ask.</p><p>Clay seems lost in thought, studying me.</p><p>"Hello?" I question, still getting stared down. </p><p>He still doesn't respond. </p><p>"Yes? Oh great and mighty Clay? Is there something you need? Shall I carry your weapon? Shine your boots? Backrub, perhaps?" I tease, trying to soothe my nerves. </p><p>He finally smiles for that, eyes flicking up to meet mine. </p><p>"Shut the fuck up." He mumbles, leaning in to catch my mouth with his own, pressing a brief kiss. </p><p>I lean into it, smiling against his mouth as I kiss back. </p><p>"You're so— God, you're so—" Clay continues, leaning back into his own seat, smiling and shaking his head. </p><p>I tilt my head, considering him. "If you're going to say annoying, know it's your own fault. You're a bad influence." I tease. </p><p>He rolls his eyes, finally opening his car door. I watch as he swings out, lifting to standing, thinking about how I need to do the same. But, my mind is drifting, considering my statement. </p><p>If I'm being totally honest? </p><p>Some of my favorite parts of me are the ones he helped me piece together. I can't help but notice it, every day now. His voice is in my head, words of affirmation, self-perception, and humor float, like pieces of me.</p><p>I'm not mad about it.</p><p>"You coming?" Clay asks, real Clay asks. </p><p>I blink, shaking the thought. "Yeah. Gimme a sec." I say, finally opening my door and hopping out as well. </p><p>"What were you thinking about?" He asks, wrapping an arm around my waist the second I'm close enough.</p><p>I consider for a moment. "Your mom totally knew in like... September. Do you think they'll notice our anniversary is in December?" I ask, a random thought.</p><p>Clay shrugs. "Not if we never tell them." </p><p>I laugh, watching the proud smile curl his face.</p><p>Dumbass.</p><p>My dumbass.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>that’s the end</p><p>:)</p>
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<a name="section0047"><h2>47. Author’s Note</h2></a>
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    <p>There is a sequel in the works on Wattpad currently.</p><p>It will be posted here once complete. </p><p>https://www.wattpad.com/story/250346471-lovers-instead-dreamwastaken-x-reader</p>
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